Courtney leaned on the hand railing. They were in an art museum. A very boring art museum. Mr. and Mrs. Dimond were simply fascinated with the art. Dodger was even a bit into it. Mark took a lot of notes. Notes! He didn't have anything better to do?
"Mark?" Courtney asked, "What kind of notes could you possibly take from looking at dumb famous pictures by dumb famous dead guys?"
"Notes?" Mark asked, looking up from his notepad, "Oh! Ah, w-well... l-like the t-texture... and... s-stuff."
Courtney raised an eyebrow at him, "You're not really taking notes, are you?"
"W-well, n-not really," he stammered.
"Then what are you doing?" she asked.
"N-nothing real important. W-why do y-you care, a-anyway?"
"I didn't... until now. What are you doing over there?"
"Does it m-mater?" he confronted.
"I guess not..." she leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of what was on his notepad. Mark pressed it against him chest so that no one could see the pages.
Courtney grunted and went back to looking at the painting behind her. Mark started writing again; Courtney figured Mark should be able to have some privacy.
"Why would someone paint the momalisa?" she asked.
"It's called the 'Mona Lisa'," Mark corrected.
"Yeah, that. It seams so pointless. It's of a woman smiling; what's so interesting about that?"
"Maybe the girl was the interesting thing," Mark suggested, "Stop fidgeting."
"Why?" Courtney asked, raising an eyebrow.
"W-well, i-it's not p-proper." He was lying, but Courtney let it slide.
"She seams so secretive," Courtney mentioned.
"That's one of the beauties of the picture. You get the feeling that she knows something you don't."
"I wonder if she was an acolyte, or a Traveler," Courtney asked.
"Maybe," Mark said, shrugging. Mark made a few more pencil strokes, then put his notepad away, "Well, off to the next painting." They stopped in front of one painting of a boy and girl sitting in pasture. The girl wore a silk blue dress that blew in the wind. Her hair was tied up in a topknot. The boy was holding hand with the girl. Both were smiling.
"Love scene. Probably from the artist's childhood... or maybe he was just passing by when he saw them," Mark commented.
"How would you know?" Courtney asked.
Mark shrugged, "I dunno, It's just a guess."
Courtney raised an eyebrow at him then looked back at the painting.
"Do you see what I see?" Mark asked.
"Er, a sunny meadow?" Courtney asked.
"No!" Mark laughed, "Look!"
He pointed to the scene in the far back of the picture. Courtney squinted. She was trying to make out what it was...
"The Manhattan Hotel!" Courtney gasped.
"Yup! It's the Bronks!" Mark said.
Courtney smiled. She liked seeing her hometown, even if it was years before she was born. But it also made her homesick. She looked away from the painting.
"What's next?" she asked.
"Er, how about that one?" he asked, pointing to the picture behind them. It was 'Starry Night'.
"Hum, look at all the swirls," Courtney said.
"It's my favorite," Mark said.
"Mine, too."
They stared at the painting.
"I've always wondered what the heck that black thing is," Courtney said.
"I think it's a tree," Mark answered.
"That pointy thing?" Courtney asked.
"Yup. It's a tree."
"No way!"
"It's a tree," Dodger said, coming up behind them.
"Told you," Mark said.
"I don't believe you."
"It's a tree," Mark insisted.
"Is not!"
"Oh, look at that! Starry Night! I just love that swirlly, pointy tree!" Mrs. Dimond exclaimed.
"See?" Dodger and Mark said in unison.
"All right! You win! It's a tree!"
"Oh, look at this one, yall!" Mr. Dimond said, pulling his wife to another painting.
The three acolytes followed. Courtney looked up at the painting. It was of a woman holding a child. The woman was in a periwinkle-blue dress, with her dark brown hair tumbling down her shoulders.
"It's so cute!" Mrs. Dimond exclaimed.
"It reminds me of you and Mark, when he was just a little baby!" Mr. Dimond said.
"You wrapped Mark in a tickle-me-pink blanket?" Courtney asked.
Mark blushed, wile Dodger, on the other hand, laughed his head off.
"Oh, well, no..." Mrs. Dimond said, blushing too.
"What I meant was, the way this gal is holding the baby," Mr. Dimond corrected.
Courtney giggled. After they finished looking at the museum, they headed out to the car.
"Oh! I forgot my wallet in the bathroom!" Mark exclaimed.
"Mark, you idiot!" Courtney scowled.
"Just give me a minute, I'll be right back!■ Mark said, placing his bag in the car.
Mark left and Courtney looked down at his bag. She couldn't take it anymore; she wanted to know what he had been writing. She leaned over the bag and slowly pulled out the notepad. She flipped through the pages, looking for the last one with markings. Sure enough, it had marking on it, they just weren't words. It was a drawing. A pretty good drawing for that matter. It was of a girl. Actually, to be precise, it was of Courtney.