The other kids told over-the-top stories about Mrs. Arthur. Half the class made fun of her, the other half of us sat in bewilderment.

She’d spittle when she talked and her long gray hair would get caught in the corners of her mouth until she fixed it into a ponytail. And before she reviewed our drawings she’d have to search for her glasses on the chain around her neck.

She believed in my still life sketches all the way to the county fair.