The Art Of Deception
By Nathan Chackerian


2009
"Come in class, oooh nice painting Charles." said Mrs. Stout and brushed her hair away from her face. Charles walked in with his painting he had brought in. "Hi Charles," Fred said with a morning grin. Charles took off his brown backpack and slung it over his hook.The cold metal casing of his painting slit his finger, blood began to drip off the tip of his finger as if it was jumping off a diving board. He ran quickly over to the cabinet, grabbed a bandage, and wrapped it around his finger, the bleeding stopped and he sat down. There came a voice behind him
"Hey turn around," he turned around and there was John "Not now " said Charles and tried to focus on what the teacher was saying. As soon as he was focused John tapped him on the back
"What is it?" he said, feeling annoyed "Just read it." said John. "Fine, if you’ll just stop bothering me." He read the note, in messy hand writing was printed "How stupid can you be" it said. "So what’s the answer obviously" said Mrs. Stout. "Yeah, Charles" John whispered. He looked up and said "Huuuuh, twenty four?" "No, Charles" Mrs. Stout said in an aggravated tone as she stomped her foot on the ground with a thump "You have to listen next time." "But I" Charles said, "No BUTS" Mrs. Stout said. Then Mrs. Stout passed out the fifth grade E.L.A practice test. Once she had finished she sat down on her wooden chair and said to everyone, "You may begin."
Charles fished out a pencil from his desk gripped it and skimmed the practice test and filled in the bubble sheet with his answers then he slumped down in his chair and took out a book but he was distracted and unable to read. Then his gaze met the round blue metal clock on the wall and he watched it tick.

"Ding! Ding!" went the class bell. Mrs. Stout rose to speak, "Class your test time is over," Mrs. Stout said "Please pile your practice tests neatly in the middle of your table. I will read them while you are at art class." Charles grabbed his painting and trotted out of the noisy room down the old wooden steps to the front of the art room. He was the first person there and was greeted by Mr. Perry, the art teacher. "Hi Charles" "Hi" Charles replied. "I really liked your drawing you made yesterday" said Mr. Perry, as he lifted his tan, steaming cup of tea to sip it. "Look what I brought" said Charles as he lifted his painting to show his art teacher, "I thought you might like to show the class this painting" "Oh yes, thanks. I would recognize that artist if I was blindfolded. Is that a Higgins?!" said Mr. Perry. "Yes it is I’m surprised you know about it," said Charles "It’s a very rare painting because Higgins died when he was thirty. His dark paintings were inspired by the suffering he experienced during the Second World War. I think he died in Russia from frostbite near the end of the war and his paintings became more valuable because of his story."
"Wow, I never knew that," Mr. Perry said as the class came bustling through the hall in an unorderly fashion to the door of the art room.
"Quiet down! Or we’ll have to practice this again" Mr. Perry yelled as he tried to maintain control of the class. The students slowly quieted down, formed a line and walked in. Mr. Perry sat down on a brown Ottoman and put his elbows on a white art table. Charles handed him the painting by Higgins and joined the class hovering around Mr. Perry. "Today we actually get to see an original painting made by a semi-famous artist" said Mr. Perry. "Wow, that’s great. I’ve never seen a painting made by semi famous artist." said John sarcastically. "That’s a strike for you John" said Mr. Perry in a stern tone. "I was only complimenting!" said John as a couple of his buddies snickered. "As I was saying, today Charles has brought in a painting by Higgins. What do you notice about it. Fred?"
"I notice that there is a brown dog barking in a mansion."
"Yes, you’re right." said Mr. Perry and they continued to discuss the details of the painting.


"It looks like it’s time to leave now." Said Mr. Perry, "I really liked your inference over the last thirty minutes on the painting." Then he called student by student to get their stuff together and leave. "Charles" he finally said. Charles walked out of the Eco-Modern room and lifted up his brown backpack off the hook outside the classroom and waited for his friend Fred to come out. "There you are" Fred said "I’m glad Mr. Perry finally gave John another strike."
"I know he really deserves it by now, he always acts so annoying every class time." said Charles. "Yeah, I know." said Fred "Let’s go before the Johnster makes more trouble with us."


"Oh my god! I totally forgot the painting!" said Charles "I have to go back. Bye, see you tomorrow Fred.","See ya!" Fred said. Charles rushed back to the building like a cheetah and roamed into the art room. The light was dim and the room was dark. Charles slid the light up to full and walked over to the table and looked. For some reason there were pieces of dark brown dog hair on the rug. "Mr. Perry must have a dog" Charles thought as he shot his hand out to the place where Mr. Perry had left the painting. He made a grabbing motion towards it- but nothing. He began to grab more frantically and finally made up his mind the painting wasn’t there. He walked slowly back through the hallway as he passed John laughing with his gang of friends. "Why would anybody be laughing for no reason?" he thought. There was no reason to laugh at the painting that had been handed down over time by his family. He walked slowly back in the cold rain crying and stressing about what he would tell his dad. Finally he got to his door and opened it with a creak, immediately his dad came walking over. "Hey sport how was your day!?" "Okay" Charles said slowly. "Hey where’s that painting?!" Charles dad said. "Ummm, it’s somewhere in Minnesota??" "Yeah, where in Minnesota?!" replied Charles’ dad. "I don’t know" Charles said slowly. "Why don’t you know?" his dad said."Because, I don’t know where the painting went." "WHAT!?" yelled Charles’ dad "Grandpa’s going to be happy about this!" Charles dad said sarcastically.
Charles ran up to his room and slammed the door shut. He threw himself into his bed and grabbed the covers and pulled them up to his face.

Charles was up on a hill. There was silence in the air. He could peer down and see many men and women, white and black, lined up facing a white mansion. He watched as men and women would walk into the mansion each time which would be replaced with an equivalent of blood, puddling up on the steps of the white mansion and staining the white steps red.

"Ahhhhh!" yelled Charles. He had had a nightmare. He peered over and checked his blue Twins clock and focused on the numbers. It’s said "7:40 A.M" and he had school at eight. He ran down the stairs, shoveled up his breakfast and stopped for a second to see his dad watching the news from three years ago about Charlie, a staff member in a bank that had been murdered. He ran all the way to school and dove into his seat just as the bell rang for the beginning of school.
He felt a tap on his back "Not again" he groaned and turned around. Of course it was John and he began to speak "I’m really sorry about my behavior in the past." John said, "I’ll explain more after school, meet me outside the class we dismiss from." Charles was astonished "Why would John be apologizing to him? It must be a trick. It must be." Math class passed swiftly and finally Charles had art class again. Charles walked out of the classroom he had had math in and walked to the front door of the art room. Then Mr. Perry came out and started apologizing about the disappearance of the painting and how he would pay Charles back the original cost of the painting. Charles declined Mr. Perry paying him, but Mr. Perry insisted on it.
Finally the class came walking to the front door of the art room and they lined and walked in.
"Class, today we will try to find the painting that Charles so kindly let us look at.
"Can I search the cabinets?" said John "I don’t know, maybe you’ll get that job." Mr. Perry said "I will give each of you a number which will correspond to your job." After Mr. Perry had given out number to each person, Charles went up to Mr. Perry and said "Thanks for trying to help find the painting, maybe I will get it back." "Maybe you will" Mr. Perry said "But don’t get your hopes up so much." Charles looked under the rugs and behind the shelves but he didn’t find anything except for some dust and some used paper. Finally Mr. Perry called the class to gather in the middle of the room. "Did anyone find the painting?" Mr. Perry asked "No" the children said, "But we found lots of paper littered in some areas." "That’s great" Mr. Perry replied sarcastically. Finally Mr. Perry called the children one by one out of the room.
"Charles" he finally said. Charles walked up to Mr. Perry and said "Thanks again. I guess I’ll just have to live without that painting." "Here’s a check for the original cost of the painting." Mr. Perry said and handed him the check. "No it’s fine, you don’t have to give me it." Charles said. "I insist." Said Mr. Perry. Charles walked out and remembered he was going to meet with John. He took his knapsack off the hook in the hallway and walked over to where John was.
"Hi" said John "I’m really sorry about the painting. I want to apologize for my behavior. It’s just that my parents have been fighting a lot." Then Fred walked out of the art classroom.. "Hey get away from my friend, idiot!." Fred yelled. "No, it’s fine" Charles replied, "He’s apologizing." "Oh," said Fred dumbfounded. "I apologize to you also Fred." said John. "Oh." said Fred "I was wondering if you two could come over to my house?" said John. "Umm, sure.." said Charles. Fred stared at Charles in horror but agreed to go also. The three kids walked out of the school and up a rocky hill to Johns house.
"Is that your house?" said Fred, stunned. "Yeah," John said. "Wow, you’re rich!" said Fred.
"I prefer to look at it as entertainment for my play-dates." Replied John. "Woah!" said Fred silently as they walked yonder towards the mansion. The big white mansion appeared to grow bigger till they were at it’s steps. "I’ve been thinking about that painting of yours.: said John. "And I think I’ve worked out a suspect. I think that Mrs. Stout took it. You know she was a Higgins lover and got a Masters Degree in Art in college."
"No, I didn’t know that." Charles said. Then John knocked on the door and said "It’s John, open the door." The door creaked open and six butlers came up and greeted them. It was a big hallway with a crystal chandelier and an Oriental rug. Then a brown German Shepard guard-dog came barking through. "Be nice to the newcomers Gunter!" John said as he pushed the dog away. "Could you wait here? I have to use the pot." John said in a louder than normal tone. "My…." John hesitated "My, uh, parents don’t like strangers roaming around the house because they could knock over some expensive antique." Then he closed the bathroom door and they got settled Fred started walking aroud the room "Ooohing" and "Ahhing" at different stuff. Then he stumbled on the rug. He got back up and lifted up the big Oriental rug. It was heavy and hard to pick up. Finally he lifted it and lo and behold there was the painting! Fred dropped the rug the rug with a thump immediately and walked over to Charles. "Hey Charles" Fred whispered "Look under the rug. The Higgins painting is there!" Charles crept over to the rug and gently pulled it, there was the painting. Then there came a voice from behind him, "I see you’ve found the painting." They turned around and the tall butler was talking. "Great job, I never would have thought that where I was standing concealed the painting I was looking for." said the butler.
Then they heard the creak of a door. They turned around again and there was John. "I told you we shouldn’t have gone here." Fred whispered. "Yeah, you were righ, let’s make a run for it. When I count to three you run towards the door and I’ll grab the painting and follow, okay?" said Charles. "Okay!" said Fred.
"One, two, three!" Charles whispered. They both did their jobs and ran as fast as they could. They both hit the butler and fell down. Then the butler began to speak in his fancy voice. "I’m afraid you’ll have to stay for tea. You may get bored if you leave and then that won’t be good." Then he reached for something in his breast pocket. He slowly lifted the thing out. As it got closer the black object became more visible: it was a pistol! The butler made a weird look at Charles and aimed the gun at his head. A cool feeling went down Charles’ spine. He had been tricked, kidnapped and would possibly be murdered. "Would you please so kindly go in that room?"the butler said. "Umm, sure," Charles said slowly, and shuddered. Charles and Fred slowly moved forward and walked into the room with the gun aimed at point-blank range. Finally the got into the room and the door slammed shut. What was very fishy about this was that the door was not locked. They explored the room, there was nothing much there. The room was dark like a jail cell. It had one small window. "Oh my god!" said Fred and shrieked in terror and jumped back. "What happened?!" said Charles. "I saw a body. A dead body." His voice became faster, "Of a MAN!" said Fred. "Where?" Charles asked. "Over there." Charles walked over to the place where Fred had pointed to and there it was, a corpse with a head that was moulding and a body which was hardly any fat and was all bone. "Oh my!" exclaimed Charles. He examined the body and found a half moth-eaten wallet. Charles opened it and some coins came tumbling out and a long rope came out also. He found a torn I.D and looked at it.
A spider ran free off the I.D. He could just make out the words. It said "Charlie T. Toren from Minnesota. Occupation: Bank Staff Member and Vault Key Holder."
"Why would he be here?" said Fred. "Hmmm" Charles thought, "I’ve got it! I be that John or the butler murdered him so they could get the money from the bank.." said Charles. "I bet that’s how they got rich." "Yeah," said Fred "I have a deathly feeling that we’re dealing with a killer. I think this so-called butler is addicted to killing people. He killed this man and he probably left the door open because he wanted to kill us." Time passed on and the boys got hungry and realized they would have to make a stand if they didn’t want to starve to death like Charlie. "Look a window! I should have thought of that. We should get out from there." said Charles. "Okay," Fred replied. "How about I stay here while you get the police?" Fred said, "I’ll make noises like we’re talking so they won’t suspect anything." "Great idea," said Charles "But I need to get on your shoulders in order to reach the window sill." Charles jumped on Fred’s shoulders and Fred lifted him up to the sill. Charles looked down. It was the worst place to be. It was a speedy intersection and cars were whizzing around and the worst part was there was no fire escape.
"No fire escape!" Charles yelled "What should we do?!" "We could use the rope…" Fred said slowly "But it would be risking your life."
"Let me think about this." Charles said and thought. Finally he made up his mind. "Okay, I’ll do it. Just tell my parents I told you to tell them I love them."
" Okay, let’s do this." Said Fred.
He pulled out the long rope and hesitated. It was mouldy and frayed in some places. Fred shook his gaze off the dangers and got up to the windowsill and dropped the rope out of the window, holding onto the other end. He fould a hole where he could loop the string around and knotted it in place. "You’ve been a great friend." said Fred "Hopefully you will live to see another day."
"You’ve been a nice friend also" said Charles. And with that he ggrabbed hold of the rope, closed his eyes and dropped.
Fred held the string and kept one eye out of the window. The rope started to get very heavy. He kept his hands on it, but it started to loop back around the hole until it was on the tip of his hands. Then he dropped it! He looked out of the window and saw a figure drop and blood splatter on the hard pavement below and he heard yelling. "What have I done?!" Fred screamed and felt a cold wave go up his spine. He sat there in the darkness, half praying, half depressed.
"Thump. Thump" came a sound from the window. He turned and to his amazement he saw Charles leading five policemen in blue uniforms climbing up a metal ladder. At first Fred backed away because he thought Charles was going to arrest him. But then Charles said sarcastically "Great holding onto me." Fred frowned then started to laugh. "I was so scared you weren’t alive! I thought I saw you fall." Fred said.
"I did fall, to the awning at Mrs. Petucci’s flower store."
"But what about the blood!?" Fred said
"Oh, yeah. A man was just emptying his Cherry Coke in front of the store."
"What about the yelling!?" asked Fred
"That was Mrs. Petucci yelling at him."
"So you’re fine?" Fred said.
"Yes, it was actually a quite awesome trip!" beamed Charles "After I fell I went right to the police and told them about what had happened and that brang me here."
"Okay let’s go" said Fred. They ran to the main room where they had been originally caught and there were the two mischief-makers.
"Where are you from?!" said the butler
"Don’t pretend you don’t know who we are." said Charles in an angry voice.
"Hello Captain Sam." Said the butler "Are these two causing trouble?"
"Umm, not really" replied the squad police chief.
"I need to talk to you privately." Said the butler. "Okay" said Captain Sam. They went into another room and started to talk. When they came out Captain Sam had a wad of bills in his hand. "Next time don’t make up a story about a stolen painting." Officer Sam said.
Then Charles knew what had happened. "Aww, too bad we didn’t get to steal that painting because I can’t bring it to China now." Said Charles.
"Yeah, " said Fred.
Then Charles gave the ‘four, three, two one’ fingers and they both did their job of getting out of there. Instead of bumping into the butler, they got through his legs, ran to the airport and threw Charles hat on the line for Chinese Airlines and then they both ran back home and told their parents what had happened.
john moved to China so he wouldn’t get arrested and for reasons unknown and life went on, unchanged with a memory of a painting under a rug and a bribed police officer.