Word: cerise

cerise

\ suh-REES \  , noun;

1. moderate to deep red.

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                “Where’s that red?  I know I put it right here, and now it’s gone.”  Ben said, looking over his collection of tubes of colored paints.  They were all resting exactly where he had left them on the small table, with the exception of the red he was currently searching for.

                “I'm afraid I can’t help you there.”  Said Arthur, dabbing his canvas with his brush.

                “Well then, let me borrow yours.”  Ben said, walking over to his fellow painter.

                “I’d love to, but I don’t have any red to give you at the moment.” 

                “What are you talking about?  You have plenty or red.  I can see three tubes of it right over there.”  He pointed to the paints in question.  There were indeed three different kinds of red paint in Arthurs collection.  Arthur looked at them as well.  He then turned and looked at Ben, rolling his eyes as he did.

                “Those are not red.  The one on the right is maroon, the center one is cerise, and the left one is vermilion.”   He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  Ben groaned quietly to himself.  He really should have known better to bring that up.  Arthur was distressingly anal when it came to colors.  It was an admirable trait in a painter really, it’s just that Arthur was extremely particular, about such things, and tended to get a bit snippy with people who confused one color with another, regardless of how similar they may be.   Ben knew not to bother saying anything to argue about colors, and so thought about which shade of red he should be borrowing.

                “Fine then.  Let me borrow the maroon then.”  He said finally.

                “Well, now I don’t think I want to let you.”

                Ben took a deep breath and held his head in his hand, hoping there wasn’t any wet paint on it as he did. 

                “Why not?  You know I won’t use any more of it than needed, and I need it for my painting.” He said.

                “Really?  I thought you needed red.”  Arthur’s words were dripping with disdain.  There was no way Ben would get anything out of the other painter now.  Well, there was one.  He had to really appeal to the man’s artistic sense and hope for the best.

                “Well, why don’t you come over and see for yourself.  You know colors better than I do anyway.”  Ben said.  Adding in appeals to vanity and pride never hurt either.  Arthur looked like he was considering it, but it was mainly for show.  Ben knew he would look.  And probably trash the painting, forcing him to completely change his intent by doing something he didn’t want to do.

                “Well then, let me take a look at what you have.”

                Ben’s painting was almost done really.  It was of a pretty young woman sitting in a bright, cheery room looking out a window, with a small, delicate smile on her face.  In the foreground was a table with a silk scarf with an elaborate floral pattern on it.  The only part of the painting that was left uncovered was the end of the scarf, which lay draped over the table.  Ben wanted to place a splotch of dark, bloody red there.  His intent was to show the darkness that hovered just beneath the surface of an otherwise cheery life.  Well, that’s what he would tell people anyway.  Really, he just wanted to paint his new girlfriend sitting at a window and needed something to make it more interesting.  The red was really an idea he came up with half an hour ago.

                “Why exactly do you need the red?  Or my maroon?”  Arthur said. 

                “I’m gonna mix it up a bit and put it at the end of the scarf.  You know, make it look like a blood stain.”

                “Why?  I the rest of its fine as is.  Just finish off the scarf like the rest and call it a day.”

                Ben sighed and gave his dressed up interpretation of what he wanted to do, hoping that would work.  Arthur could be very difficult to work with, but once you got to know what he liked, it was much easier to get what you wanted out of him.  Well, most of the time anyway.  At others he could be just plain stubborn about something.  Ben was hoping that this wouldn’t be one of those times.   

                Arthur looked at Ben’s work so far and considered what he was trying to do.  He took a step back and tilted his head from side to side.  He closed one eye, then the other.  He was clearly trying to stall.  Quite possibly just for the sake of making Ben sweat.  Finally, he turned to Ben and spoke.

                “Very well, you may use my maroon.  Just don’t waist it like you did with my sunflower yellow on your last project.”

                Ben sighed in a combination of relief at getting the paint, and exasperation.  But, for now, he had a painting to finish.    

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In case you happen to be wondering: maroon, cerise, vermilion.  Oh, and if you're really curious:  sunflower yellow.  Have a nice day.