I realize I forgot to do the bit about John meeting with his very angry boss. So, I'll just sum it up here.-- He's mad. He came by on that Thursday and visited with the station and John. John is on a kind of probation from the SIA. He doesn't really mind. He knew he was gonna get it for doing what he did in Bridgeport. Besides, that gave him plenty of time to get married and go on his honeymoon, right?
Well, now that probationary period is over, and they're considering firing or relocating him. They haven't decided. Yes, his job has almost no "rules", but he did break one of them. So, Hugh may get John's job.
(originally posted 04/07/2012)
Xavier
(The script-like style of telling the story is getting on my nerves currently. So, I'm going with the more traditional form again.)
Lee Rose is my best friend. She totally gets me.
She often comes over after school to work on homework or just hang out. She's really jealous of my room. Eh, it's a room. I still don't really like that it has its own entrance and exit. I feel a little less disconnected now that Uncle Jonah has moved in to the room below me, however.
Lee has an open invitation, but sometimes her showing up unannounced can get annoying. Like today.
"Hey, Xavier." she says. "Whatcha working on?"
"Nothing much. I'm really just doodling."
"My sister was bugging me so I thought I'd hang here. That okay?" she asks.
"Of course it is." I say without looking up.
So, she very annoyingly stands there and watches me.
She giggles, "You must've been in a green mood the day you painted that."
I glance up to see the painting she's talking about. "Yeah. I did that one when we were kids."
"Your green phase." she giggles again.
I simply smile back at her then go back to my doodling.
"I guess I'll research for that project we have." she finally says as she walks over to my computer.
"Mmkay."
"Huh. That's interesting." she says after a little bit. She doesn't explain what it is she found that is interesting, and I get aggravated she keeps it to herself.
Finally, I ask, "What is?"
"Well, I was looking for some famous artist to do the project on, and I came across this guy. Marcelo Castillo. Isn't that the last name your mom had when she was born?"
"Yeah."
"Well, this guy died a little over thirty years ago. He died of a rare form of the flu. Hm... it says his wife died also, but there's no mention of a baby daughter." she explains.
"You're thinking this guy could be my mom's birth-father?"
"Yeah, I am. Especially now that I've found a better picture of him. Xavier, look!" she exclaims.
I walk over and look at the computer screen.
(It looks like he's being stabbed.
)
I see a somewhat-familiar face looking back at me. This guy has eyes just like my mom's. Jet black wavy hair. A chill runs up my spine.
"Wow." is all I can say.
"I know right?" she pauses for a minute. "Does your mom know about this?" she asks.
"Erm, well I know his name is probably on her birth certificate. I've never asked her about her parents - either set. She doesn't exactly volunteer information either." I explain.
"You should ask her."
"Yeah, but how do I start that conversation? 'Uh, hi, Mom. Was granpa Marcelo Castillo, the famous painter?' Yeah. I can see that happening." I say the last part with sarcasm dripping from my voice.
"You never know until you try. There are just too many similarities for this to be a mere coincidence."
"Well, at any rate. Dibs." I smile.
She turns around to glare at me. "Hey! That's not fair. Here I am doing all the research and you're just going to ride my coat tails?"
I work at trying to hide my laugh as she grudgingly opens another tab to find another artist to do her project on.
"Only because he's your possible grandfather."
I guess she gives up on finding someone else to do the project on because she turns the computer off and gets up.
"Xavier," she starts up and blocks my path back to the drafting table, "I think you SHOULD talk to your mom about this. This is really cool, and I think she'd like to see it."
"Yeah. I guess you could be right." I pause. "So you gave up on trying to find someone?"
"Maybe I could do it on you." she teases.
"Funny. But it has to be about someone famous."
"But that would mean I'd found someone, and I could stop looking." She looks up at me with a slight impish look in her eye, "Besides, you're my favorite artist anyway."
I do actually laugh now. "What about your own stuff?"
"Hah. No. All of my stuff ends up as crap." she says with an irritated look on her face.
"No it doesn't." I'm quick to answer.
"Yes it does!"
I sigh. Sometimes there's just no convincing her. She could paint the Mona Lisa and she'd think it crap just because she did it. Hm. The Mona Lisa is crap, actually.
Wow. That almost feels sacriligious to think that. I laugh inwardly.
I come out of my reverie to find that she's not standing in front of me, but has gone off in some kind of pout. At least, I'm guessing she's pouting.
"Lee, your stuff is great." I try to reassure her.
"That's not what's bothering me anymore."
Oh, I can't keep up! When did she turn into such a girl?
"Well, then what is it now?" I finally ask.
"Nothing." she answers and inwardly I scream in frustration.
She sits down on my sofa and stares into space. I stand there and stare at her, waiting for her to explain herself. She doesn't.
Her smile reminds me of the Mona Lisa. I think as I see her smile at some internal joke or something. That gives me an idea.
"Hey, can I use your sculpting station?" she asks out of the blue.
"Yeah. Sure. Knock yourself out." I say as I continue to come up with my idea.
I haven't painted anything in days. I just haven't felt like it... hence the doodling. Now that I have an idea I kind of rush to finish it. It shouldn't take too long.
The air is filled with the sound of her chisel as she hacks away at a glob of clay that magically appeared out of nowhere. I keep glancing over at her, making sure I'm doing what I'm doing right.
It's... just.. not right. Somehow. Maybe I should finish the background. No. It would be wrong to finish the background. I hope she doesn't mind the red. Bad mood=red. Plus it really makes her shirt pop out of the canvas.
I blink a few times from the mental image I just got.
She startles me back into reality as she asks, "What are you working on?"
"Don't come over here." I say real fast. Of course, that makes her walk over.
"Stay there." I say again.
She asks the typical 'why' question I expected, yet have no answer for.
"Because." I answer cryptically.
Typically, she walks closer.
"I told you stay put!" I warn, my voice even but commanding at the same time.
"No. I want to see." she says stubbornly.
"You will. Later."
"How much later? I need to go soon." she says.
"Not much. Go work on your sculpture."
"I hate it so I quit."
"You're crazy. It's really starting to look cool. You should finish it." I say as I paint like mad.
"Nah. If it's starting to look cool then if I finish it it's doomed. Best to leave it in a state of possibilities." she shrugs.
"You," I pause a moment before the red runs into the green, "have no confidence."
"Nope. None. I have intelligence. Intelligence so I know I'm wasting my time."
"You're only wasting your time if you don't finish it." I say as we make eye contact over the top of the painting.
"Whatever." she says and rolls her eyes. She pulls out her guitar and I'm mildly entertained as I rush to finish.
"Okay. I'm done. Probably." I say.
Her head pops up and she puts her guitar away. She walks over with a doubting expression.
"Is that supposed to be me?" she asks.
"Supposed to be? It is you. See? There's your green shirt." I say.
"Why am I red?" she asks simply.
She hates it.
"Because you're in a bad mood."
"And out of focus."
"Because you're not yourself today."
She turns her head and looks at me with an expression I don't understand.
"So," she finally says, "you decided to paint me?"
Yep. She hates it and now she's mad at me.
"Thank you!" she says as she suddenly throws her arms around my neck.
We... have never hugged before. I don't know why, we just hadn't. It feels... nice.
"That was very sweet of you Xavier," she says as we're still hugging. "That put me in a much better mood. Thank you."
I clear my throat. "Um. You're welcome then."
She pulls back shyly. "Sorry." she says.
I'm confused as to why she said sorry, but I smile anyway, "For what?"
"Um, nothing I guess."
We just stand there and stare at each other. She brushes something off of my shoulder, probably dried paint.
"I really gotta go now. See you." she turns to leave.
"Lee, wait!" I say and walk after her. She stops and half-turns back to me.
"Do you want to take the painting with you?" I ask as I get hold of her hand to keep her from leaving.
"No, you keep it. That way you have something to remind you of me when I'm not here." She smiles a small smile.
"There! There it is!" I suddenly say.
"There what is?"
"The smile that made me want to paint that." I explain.
Did she just blush? I made her blush? Really?
"I really gotta go now." she says in almost a whisper.
"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask and feel stupid. Of course I'll see her tomorrow.
"Mhm. Tomorrow."
"'Kay."
I stand there and watch her leave.
Once she's gone I have this overwhelming sense of loss come over me. I have no idea where it comes from. I just know it's there. Like I once had something great and now it's missing.
What just happened? I painted her. So what? I've painted lots of people, imaginary people, but people.
I'm glad she told me to keep it. I think I'll hang it up right now.
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