Brush strokes (unfinished)

"6,000 dollars?”

“Yes.” He folded his hands together crossing his fingers and placing them on his desk.

“I’m sorry” I tittered, “but where am I supposed to get that kind of money?”

“Well we can’t issue another loan here. You could set up a payment plan.”

“Ok. Let’s get started on that.”

“Well… in order for you to qualify for that you need to have some type of credit and I’m seeing here…” he shuffled through some papers. “You have some delinquent charges. Your credit would have to be sparkling crystal.” His corny joke bounced off of me and back onto him making him a little uncomfortable. “

I let out a deep sigh “When do I have to pay this?”

“You have about a month and a half before we take legal action.”

“A month and a half?! You just notified me about this yesterday!”

“We sent you several emails alerting you of this matter.”

“Emails?!” I calmed down, “What then after a month and a half sir?”

“Your case file will go into collections. We’ll audit and then we’ll begin to garnish.”

“Alright. Thank you for your time…”

I stood up and he stood to shake my hand. His sweaty palm gripped mine a little too tight as he looked at me too intensely. “If you have any trouble at all, don’t hesitate to contact me on my personal line.” His crooked grin revealed his yellowish teeth. Beads of sweat rolled down his neck and stained the pits of his shirt even though it was cool in the office. He licked his teeth and tried to sneak a peek down the front of my shirt. I scoffed and snatched my hand leaving quickly. The pot bellied pervert probably had a little girl ready to escape from his office closet as we spoke.

The second my skin met the air I pulled a cigarette from my bag and stuck it between my lips.

Where the fuck was I gonna get 6,000 dollars in a month and a half?

I definitely wasn’t hurting for cash that much to go back and be that weirdo’s sex slave. The next best thing was to get a second job.

“You could work with me.” My roommate said as she snapped pictures outside of her bedroom window.

“Are you kidding? Getting paid for being a part of experiments isn’t an occupation.” I laughed.

“Why not?” she said angling her camera and snapping several times, “set hours, hourly rate. Sounds like a job to me.”

“It’s weird Simone. Besides, I thought you hated doing that.”

“I do. But it pays the bills.” she turned to smile and wink at me.

I giggled a little. “I have a bill paying job already. I just need a debt paying one…”

“You’ll find something Fiona. I promise.” She stooped down to look at her pictures, “Hey. This one actually turned out pretty good.”

I headed to the art studio where I worked and went into the back where I usually painted to clear my thoughts. I fired up my ipod and let Explosions in the sky inspire me.

I was just a simple art student. All I wanted to do was paint for a living. I was two semesters away from graduating and found myself in a hole. How’d that happen? I tried to recall filling out for the loan and if I’d read the fine print right or not.

I splashed and dipped my brush in paint keeping my mind on my situation that by the time I’d realized it, night had fallen and I hadn’t done any work.

“Fuck…” I headed out to see had anyone come in and the place was vacant. I checked my cell phone and found that the owner of the store had called about seven times and left about three messages.

Today couldn’t get any worse.

Simone helped me gather my art supplies and lug everything home. “The day I find out I’m in massive debt I get fired… what am I gonna do now?”

“Don’t stress out man. I’ll help you.”

“I know but I had to pull serious strings to work at that particular gallery. My professor got me that job. That’s gonna look terrible on my resume.”

“You were a good assistant. I’m sure they’ll make excellent references.”

I laid my head in her lap curling into a ball and sighed deeply, “Everything sucks.”

*~*

I gathered my book readying to leave for my next class.

“Before you guys go, I have an extra credit opportunity for all of you uninhibited art majors interested in passing my class and making extra money. Check out the announcement board in the student life center. Everything you need to know about it will be listed there. Have a great weekend.”

I got up and headed straight there after grabbing a quick bite to eat. I scanned the giant board plastered across the pale blue wall looking over countless posters about date rape, book sales, and sports events.

Then I saw it:

Still modeling
Local artist seeking subject for latest sculpture
Subject will be paid $$$
Contact artist for details
Must meet in person
Artist info:
777-6380
8301 Sapphire Rd. Apt F

I wrote the info down in my hand and headed to my last class for the evening. I’d been a subject for several art classes on campus before so this would be a piece of cake. I was just anxious to know how much money was in it for me. Anything would help at this point.

First thing Saturday morning I headed out to the artists address. There was a little bicycle stand just out front of the building so I rolled over and locked up. I double checked the address to make sure I was at the right place seeing as how the flyer said apartments and I was standing in front of huge condominiums. I noticed someone from my class leaving in a hurry and she looked pissed at the world. I thought to myself, “Great... One of those self righteous female sculptors with her head up her ass…”
My pottery professor was one of those people and it seriously almost made me change my major. I took a deep breath and walked to the double doors and searched for “F” on the intercom system.

“Yes?” the annoyed female voice said.

“Good morning, my name is Fiona. I’m interested in still modeling for the artist.”

There was a pause. “Did you make an appointment?”

“Uh no, I wasn’t aware that I needed one.”

There was another pause. After long, there was a loud buzzing followed by the door unlocking. I hurried and walked through before it could lock again. I fiddled with the paper as I scanned the inside of the building. There were large glass windows everywhere and an obscene amount of light shining through. I could see why any artist could fall in love with this place.

There were only numbers on the level I was on so I asked a man coming out of the elevator with his dog where I would find plain old apartment “F”. He sent me on the elevator and told me to take the elevator up to the last floor and transfer to the second elevator that would take me to the letters.

Pretty high living for a sculptor.

Finally I got to the right place and rang the bell. A middle aged woman answered with dark wavy hair that was a bit thin and partially gray. She was wearing a long maroon dress with belled sleeves and matching lipstick.

“Hm. You found the place faster than most.” She said. She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I asked for directions.” I chuckled. I extended my hand, “Fiona.”

“Fiona?” she said taking it slowly. Her palm was cold and soft.

“Yes...” I smiled nervously.

“Fiona like… Madonna?”

“Oh, no.” I giggled. “Fiona Aleem.”

“Ah.” She smiled again but this time it was more heartfelt. “I’m Moneé Dubois. Come right this way.” She opened the door showing me into the corridor. It was wide but a small space filled with sculptures of various subjects of different mediums.

“May I?” I asked looking from her to the works.

She nodded smiling and waiting with folded hands.

There was a headless replica of The Kritios Boy. The texture was smooth and the detail was amazing.

“How long did this take?” I asked looking at Ms. Dubois.

“About two and a half months.”

“Oh my God this is amazing… What’s your technique?”

“If you think that’s amazing wait until you see the others.” She placed her hand on my back gently and guided me through the end of the corridor to the living room. It was just as open and beautiful as the building itself. One tall window stretched across the entire wall looking over the city. There was marble body parts scattered about on the floor along with some finished pieces, paintings, abstract things. The furniture was very modern. Beige with wood finishing. It definitely looked like a female artist’s house.

It was my dream enviourment.

“Do you mind if I take a picture of this?” I asked.

She giggled, “Go right ahead.”

I took my camera from my bag and began to snap away. It was the most beautiful and interesting cluster fuck I’d ever seen.

“You have a beautiful home Ms. Dubois.”

“Well surely you haven’t seen all of the rooms.” A male’s voice said scaring me. “But thank you.”

“Oh. Um you’re welcome. I was just telling your wife-”

“She’s not my wife. And this is my place. I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Honest mistake.” He smiled. He was tall, dark, brooding shoulders, very masculine jaw line, curly mop hair and piercing green eyes. “Oh, where are my manners. I’m Pierre Resnik. I’m the sculptor.” He flashed a set of brilliant white teeth.

I felt a little flushed staring at him. He was a work of art himself. “I’m Fiona. Aleem.” I stuttered extending my hand walking up to him. He didn’t take my hand or look at it he just turned to his left and touched some things on the table next to him. I took my hand back nervously and held my camera to my side going back to my previous standing spot.

“So I heard camera clicks. Are you a photographer?”

“Only as a hobby but I’m a painter.”

“Ah, another artist. Well, you’re more accepting to my place than the last girl.” He joked.

I humored him, “Yeah I saw her leave. She’s in my class.”

“Oh ok so you’re an art student?” he continued to feel and rearrange things on his table.

“Yes. I graduate in a couple semesters. I’m planning to backpack in Rome and do some excavating. I did it sophomore year and fell in love with it.”

“That’s great; you’re also older than the last girl. I can work with that.” He seemed to be having some issues with trying to find what he was looking for. I tried to ignore it as he looked to the ceiling sealing his eyes shut in frustration. “Moneé, where are those papers I had you print the other day?”

“Oh I moved them. They kept falling over so I put them on your desk.”

“Well you see me over here looking for them. Can I get some help?”

I stood awkwardly with a lifted eyebrow trying not to catch Ms. Dubois’s reaction. She just made an annoyed face and left in the other direction.

“Sorry about that.” He chuckled turning around to face me again; his eyes straight at me. “Good help is so hard to find. Then again she’s usually a bit more helpful.” He teased.

I laughed a little uncomfortable with his gaze.

“So if I may ask, what is it that you do for a living Ms. Aleem?”

“Well, I am currently a fulltime student.”

“Single?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful, wonderful. So what type of art do you partake in?”

“I used to work a lot with water colors but I’ve fallen in love with acrylic on canvas and wood. The texture is just unlike anything I’d ever seen. I mean besides fresco.” We both shared a laugh.

“That’s good. Are you working on anything?”

“Um I started a few small pieces in the last couple of days. I’m trying my hand at oil painting.”

He made a face of approval. “Wow very bold move going from water color to oil. Good luck with that endeavor. Would you like to sit?”

“Sure.” I smiled following him to another room. It was smaller in scale but the window made the space seem big. The room was practically empty with nothing but a futuristic style sofa that was long and curved and a painter’s sheet in the middle of the floor.

“Is this your work area?” I looked around the room.

“It’s the beginning.”

“What do you mean?” I asked crossing my legs sitting my camera on the cushion next to me.

“It’s a process. I like to take steps.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“Would you like some wine?”

“Sure.”

“Red or white?”

“I’ll take what you have.”

“And you aren’t very picky. I think I like you.” He chuckled smiling again. I laughed with him. He called for Ms. Dubois who came in with the papers and left back out to get the wine. She came back briefly and handed me a glass then filled it up halfway. She did the same for Mr. Resnik and sat on the edge of the sofa arm near him.

“So Ms. Aleem, have you done any still modeling before?”

“Yes I have. Actually some of my professors used me as a model a few times to enter their pieces into contests among alumni and I’ve modeled for some classes as well.”

“Interesting. Just by talking to you I can tell you are very daring and ambitious. Have you sculpted anything of your own?”

“Once when I was a kid I had to make a clay replica of the city Mesopotamia and I used to carve little women out of bars of soap in the house. It used to drive my mom crazy.” I laughed. He and Ms. Dubois laughed loudly.

“What can I say; you have to start somewhere, eh?”

I nodded still giggling.

“Ok well I will tell you that I am very interested in making you my subject. It’s perfect that you aren’t working because I plan on doing this piece as quickly as I can. I feel incredibly inspired and I want to do it before it flees me.”

“I know the feeling.” I joked. We shared another laugh.

“Good, good.” He smiled.

“Um, Moneé could you excuse us for a moment while I discuss a few things with Ms. Aleem here?”

“Absolutely.” She smiled getting up then touching my shoulder. She shut the door behind her.

“Ok so I’ve made my decision already. I just need a few more things from you and we could get started if that’s ok with you?”

“Yeah, of course. My day is free.” I smiled.

“Perfect. Before we begin I’ll go ahead and tell you that I pay about 250 a day.”

I choked on my wine I was sipping. “What?”

“Uh… 250 a day? Is there something wrong?”

“No, no. I just. I wasn’t expecting that.” I wiped the wine from my lip as he looked puzzled, “250 like two hundred and fifty dollars?” I picked up the napkins Ms. Dubois left for me and wiped my shirt.

“Yes.” He chuckled. “Is that a problem? I can always raise the price if you like-”

“No! I’m afraid if you did that I might have a heart attack.”

He laughed, “Ok then we seem to have an agreement.” He picked up the papers touching them carefully before picking them up. “These are some forms you can look over. It’s a confidentiality agreement along with some other information I need from you. Basic things. You can fill that out here and leave that with Moneé at the front.”

“Alright.”

“I’m willing to work with your school schedule. If you want to come here in the morning before class, during your break if you have one or after you’re done with school is fine. And if you want to do all three that’s perfect.” We both laughed. “Other than that, you’re hired.”

“Oh my God thank you. You don’t know how much I appreciate this. I’ve had the craziest week and this just highlighted it. I can’t thank you enough.”

He smiled sitting the papers down and sipping his wine, “You’re doing me the favor Ms. Aleem.”

“Please, it’s Fiona.”

“Ok Fiona. Beautiful name for a beautiful person.”

“Uh thank you.” I blushed a little.

“Well if you don’t mind I’d like to get started.”

“Certainly. Where do you want me?” I stood up sipping my wine one more time.

“Do you see where the sheet is? You can go over there and stand right on the marked spot.”

I nodded and went over to it. He got up and went to a corner of the room and washed his hands then dried them with a towel next to the sink. He rubbed baby lotion on his hands after rolling up his sleeve and came over to me. He reached out slowly and touched my shoulder lightly.

“Are you cold?”

I looked at his hand then at him, “No. I’m comfortable.”

“Ok. If you don’t mind could you remove your clothes?”

“What?” I asked confused.

“Remove your clothes.”

“All of them?’

“Yes.” He smiled. “You did notice that all of my human sculpture subjects are naked.”

“Oh uh…ok.” I started to remove my jacket when I noticed he was still looking in my direction. “Um…”

“Is there a problem?”

“Could you maybe…turn around?”

“My apologies. If you like I can close the shutters. It would be dark then and more comfortable.”

“Well I’m not really concerned that someone is looking through the window at this altitude of your condo.” He chuckled. “Your staring is just making me a bit uncomfortable…”

“Oh.” He shut his eyes and slapped his forehead. “Forgive me. I honestly don’t know which direction I’m looking in. I haven’t been able to see in over 15 years.

My eyes almost shot out of my head. “You’re blind?” I asked confused.

“Yes. Legally. Last time I checked…” he smiled.

Then I thought about it. The giant apartment with the woman’s touch, he didn’t pour the wine, he touched everything first before he looked at it, he walked a bit slow but not noticeably slow.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea-”

“No forgive me for not having told you sooner. I know I don’t look like your typical blind man. I can’t imagine how you must feel right now.”

“No I’m only surprised and…very amazed. You’re a blind sculptor?”

“Yes. It is how I make my living. People are impressed with me and apparently I’m talented.” He chuckled.

“Wow. It’s an honor to be in your presence.” Somewhere in between listening to him and talking with him I was naked before I knew it. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did the other girl leave?”

He sighed through his nose making a contemplative face, “Among a number of things in her interview process, probably because she didn’t approve of this part.”

When he said “this part” I thought he meant being bare in a bright room but soon enough I found out what he meant.

He touched my shoulder again and pressed his fingers gently into my flesh bringing his fingers down my chest to the sides of my breast. His hands were incredibly warm and soft. He moved very slowly circling my body a few times feeling in different spots with his fingers, never inappropriately. I watched as he concentrated with his eyes closed wondering if he could picture what I looked like just from his fingertips.

Lastly he moved both of his hands to my face and gently touched my cheeks, the creases of my eyes, eyelids, and brought his fingers to my lips. He rounded his fingers about the nape of my neck and caressed my bottom lip with his thumbs slightly parting them. His eyes were looking past mine as I was getting lost in his.

He created a trail from the crease above my chin to my jaw line to my neck and back to my shoulders. He rubbed down my arms lifting up my hands sliding down to my finger tips. I closed my eyes as he traced the inside of my hands with his middle finger.

“Thank you for your time and cooperation Fiona.” He smiled and kissed my fingers.

I opened my eyes and he was halfway across the room. I picked up my clothes and dressed slowly feeling high from the sensations.

“What time should we meet tomorrow?” he asked drying his hands and applying baby lotion.

“I’m usually done with classes at five. I can come right over. I’m not too far from you.

“Perfect.” He smiled. “Should I have someone pick you up?”

“No thank you I’ll ride my bike.”

“Non-sense. Are you decent?”

“Yes.”

He called for Moneé, “Have a car arranged for someone to pick up Fiona at five tomorrow and see if we can’t get a scheduled one to pick her up everyday she’s going to be with us.”

“Sure thing.” She smiled.

“Have you eaten Fiona?”

“I uh didn’t have time to grab a bite on the way out.”

“Well I can prepare something for you if you like. Don’t run off just yet.” He smiled at me.

“Ok. Thanks.”

We all left out of the work room and went into the kitchen. Moneé set the table and Pierre went into the kitchen to make something for all of us. Moneé smiled at me as she sat the table dressing down.

“Can I help him with anything?” I asked lowly.

“No you just sit right there. He hates it when people try to help him do things.”

I nodded and sat back feeling a little bad that I’d asked.

“So do you like Panini’s?” Pierre said from the kitchen.

“Yes they’re kinda my favorite.”

“Moneé, I think this young lady is my new best friend.”

“I’m jealous.” She teased.

We all laughed. After lunch was made we all sat at the table and talked about everything. They were very nice everyday regular people.

Pierre told me about his condition. He wasn’t always blind. It was rare disease that was hereditary. It could’ve been prevented but he developed it later on in life so there was nothing else his doctors could do. The reason his house was so light and open was because he could make out slight shadows in bright light. However, too much light could damage his eyes more and it does start to hurt after a while.

“If I wore sunglasses all the time people would know I was blind and start to feel sorry for me. I don’t want anyone’s sympathy.”

“I admire that.” I sat back in my chair. “I’ve always said you can’t respect someone that pities you and you can’t pity someone you admire.”

“Hm. I like that.” He sipped his red wine.

“Ok you’ve had enough of red wine for tonight.” Moneé got up and took his glass.

“But I wasn’t finished.”

“Yeah you were. I counted how many of those you had and you’re working on glass number five.” She smiled.

He chuckled and gave up, “You may be right Moneé. I guess time flies. What time is it anyway?”

I looked at the nearest clock, “Oh it’s almost four.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to keep you here so long.”

“No it’s quite alright. With the week I’ve had, this was well within its rights.”

“I’m glad I could help.” He smiled. It was becoming contagious, and infectious. “So how will you be making it home this evening, you’re bike?”

“Yes.”

“Well let me get someone to take you and your bike home.”

“That’s really unnecessary.”

“Crazy talk.” He waved my statement away. “Moneé, get someone to carry Fiona and her bike to her residence.”

She left to make a phone call.

“You really don’t have to do that you know.”

“It’s my pleasure. And you don’t need to be riding your bike and risking getting injured or anything. It’s hard for me to sculpt scars and bruises. I can’t remember how they look. So think of this as a term in your contract.”

I smiled, “Very well.”

Moneé returned shortly, “The car is pulling around. They can help with putting your bike away.” She smiled holding her hand out.

“I’ll see you out.” Pierre walked with Moneé and me to the elevator. “It’s surely been a pleasure Fiona.”

“No it’s been my pleasure. Thanks so much for your hospitality and the opportunity. Just thank you for everything. I really appreciate it.” I extended my hand again.

He just stood there with a blank expression. Then he leaned over and not so subtly whispered to Moneé, “Is she trying to shake my hand?”

She whispered back the same way, “I think so.” They both had mock grins.

“Oh I’m sorry. You can’t see that.” I plucked myself in the head. “Please, forgive me.”

“Hand shaking is quite alright. But that would mean we were strangers.” Pierre joked and took my hands in his kissing both my cheeks and hugging me.

I laughed and hugged him back and then followed suit with Moneé. “See you tomorrow.”

“I won’t.” Pierre joked. We all laughed as I walked away.

I got on the elevator and was met out front by a kind chauffer. “Ms. Aleem.” He greeted me opening the car to put away my bike.

This was sweeter than sweet.

Simone was sitting in the canopy on our lawn snapping pictures of the trees and sky when I pulled up. She looked and got out of the canopy to see who it was. I got out and the driver helped me with my bike. I thanked him and wheeled over towards Fiona who snapped an impromptu picture of me walking away from the car with my bike.

“Bicycle roadside assistance?”

“Nope. My ride to and from work.” I chained my bike in its normal spot and went to lie in the canopy.

“Wait, you have a job?”

“Yep. Sort of.” I giggled. “Doesn’t seem like work because it’s really cool and laid back.”

“In less than 48 hours you managed to get a new job with a company car. Dude. Teach me.”

I giggled as she got in the canopy with me and listened to me tell her about my new awesome job and boss.

*~*
The next morning I got a call from Moneé asking what time I would like for a car to come for me. I told her noon because I wasn’t quite awake yet and I wanted to lie around some more. Though after the call I was too excited to go back to sleep so I went on the back porch and did a quick sketch.

I mostly thought about Pierre.

I tried to picture the kind of things he used to do before he went blind, if he was always so humble and polite, what types of people he associated himself with. I mostly wondered about what types of women he dated after he went blind. I wondered if he was in a relationship when he was dealing with it and if so did the woman leave him because she couldn’t take it or did he leave her because she was she taking advantage of him during of his illness.

He was very well educated and handsome. There’s no reason that he should be single at 47. That doesn’t seem very old but, he wasn’t getting any younger.

When I got to his house we got straight to work.

Well he did anyway.

This time he wanted me to lay on top a table next to where he would be sculpting. I didn’t have to lay any particular way. He just needed me nearby to reference back to.

“You know, you can talk. I know how to multi task.” He smiled while touching the joints of my knee.

“Oh.” I giggled.

“I mean, if you’re comfortable.”

“Sure. I’m comfortable. I just…”

“You just what?” he moved his hands to the giant block of marble next to him and began to feel it too.

“I…wanted to ask you something. But I don’t want to pry or anything.”

“Please. My life is an open book.”

“Well… I was just curious as to what happened exactly at the time you…” I hesitated.

“Went blind?” he finished my sentence moving back placing his hands at my feet.

“Yeah.”

“It’s alright. No need to sound down about it. It’s a part of who I am. It’s become second nature to me as if I’m declaring I’m a man or I’m human.”

I snorted lightly.

“Are you smiling?”

“Yes.”

“Hold that.” He moved to my face and touched it gently. “I was 22.” He began. “I was at my prime. Just like you, I too was in school about to graduate. I had a wonderful life. Good friends, supportive family. I’m afraid I took it all for granted…”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Don’t furrow your brows.” He said rubbing my forehead gently, “You’re much prettier when you’re happy. I can feel it.”

I blushed smiling.

“See. Beautiful.” He smiled, “But what I mean is I wasn’t a very kind person. Everything and everyone was at my disposal. Life was at my fingertips and I didn’t think I would ever lose anything.”

“What happened?” I tried not to change my expression but it was hard to not be curious.

“Well… I started to get these really bad burning sensations while I was sculpting. They were few and far in between. But they started to be followed by pain and this thick matter coming from my eyes. I’d wake up some mornings and I wouldn’t be able to open my eyes.” He continued to touch my face gently. “One day I couldn’t open them at all. I asked my girlfriend at the time to bring me to my doctor. She panicked then and there.”

“Why? Was the news bad? What did the doctor say?”

“It was worse than bad. We didn’t have to go to the doctor. She stood right in the bedroom and told me my eyes had been opened the whole time. I just couldn’t see.”

I couldn’t keep the smallest smile on my face anymore. He moved his hands away and went back to the block.

“You must’ve been terrified.”

“At first. Before my mother passed, she had told me about this disposition. My grandfather had a not so severe case but I was so young and so cocky. I thought I was invincible. I didn’t think it would happen to me and if somehow should I get it, it wouldn’t be like my grandfathers. It never occurred to me that the things I had acquired in life meant nothing…”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You know, you apologize a lot.” He smiled. “What’s your story? You seem very troubled.”

“What? How can you tell?” I smiled a little.

“The way you were standing yesterday, the way you use and choose your words. I can tell a lot about person based just on their speech pattern alone.”

“Oh…”

“You do that a lot too.”

“O- Uh I mean…”

He chuckled heavily, “It’s quite alright. You’re still nervous. It’s perfectly normal. Would you like some wine? You seem to loosen up with a sip.”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” He smiled and went over to his small work station and handed me a blanket to cover up. He called for Moneé and she brought us some white wine. I sipped while he felt around over some papers. He was reading.

“So will you tell me your story?” he said still touching the papers.

I watched as his fore finger and middle finger slid slowly across the bumpy paper.

“Um there isn’t much to tell I’m afraid.” I giggle slightly.

“Well there has to be something. I’m interested in hearing anything really. I don’t get many stories around here.” He smiled sitting the paper on his desk and paying attention to me.

“I- I’m not sure what you want to know…”

“Start with your love for art.”

I sipped my wine again holding on to the blanket that was around me. I didn’t like talking about how I got into art. It made me feel vulnerable. The fact that I was sitting in an empty room naked covered by nothing more than a sheet didn’t help either.

“Ok.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me about the first time you ever painted or drew something.”

I sipped my wine and sat it down next to me. “I was ten.” I started. I relaxed my shoulders and revisited the memory. “Like I mentioned before, I had a project to do for a social studies class. I remember going to the store and looking for all the art supplies that was necessary to make the city.” I smiled. He smiled as well. “I found this play dough like stuff that dried after you molded it and you could paint it once it dried. It smelled awful but I was fascinated with the way it felt in my hand.”

Suddenly I saw myself in the middle of my old room rolling plaster between my fingers and making a mess on a beige carpet. “I stayed up all night building tiny buildings with incredible detail and statues with wet fold drapery. I almost didn’t want to turn it in the next day.” I’d almost forgotten he was in the room until he spoke.

“How did you start painting?”

“I spent a lot of time grounded with no TV or radio. I needed to keep my mind and my hands busy. I used to sketch a lot and I got bored with black and white images. One summer I saved all my allowance and bought paint. It was water colors. I covered every sketch I’d ever done and ever since then paint has been my first love.”

“No real love?”

“No. Well, not anymore…” I looked away and picked up my glass to drink from it.

“Hm. Such a shame. You’re a wonderful young lady you hardly seem like the type to be free of all male company.”

“I get really busy with school. I don’t really have time to date.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

“I’m not offended.” I lied.

“You’re just an extraordinary young lady. Most of my younger subjects such as yourself are usually tied up with phone calls from their boyfriends.”

The compliment helped put me at ease. “Thank you.” I finished my glass.

“Shall we get back to work?”

“Sure. If you want.”

He did his usual ritual and washed his hands then covered them lightly with baby lotion. He walked over to me as I was pulling off the blanket.

“No, leave it on.” He touched my hands.

I kept completely still as he moved his hands over my covered shoulders. He touched my face and outlined the creases of my eyebrows and cheeks bones. He trailed down my nose and ran his fingers across my lips. I wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the baby lotion he used but his touch sent chills through me that reached the oddest places.

“Are you cold?”

“No. I’m quite comfortable.” I answered trying to even the tone of my shaky voice.

“You seem to be shivering. I can turn up the heat or perhaps get you another blanket.”

“I’m fine really.”

“Ok. Let me know if you need anything.” He pressed his fingers down the sides of my neck and removed the blanket slowly.

His face was always so interesting when he worked. It was almost like he could see sometimes with the expression he held on his face. He would blink normally but it was like he was looking at me trying to get me to tell him what I was thinking. I would find myself staring back, wishing I could figure out what was going on in his mind. Before I knew it he was done; making his way over to his sink to wash his hands.

“Are you hungry Fiona?”

“Yeah.” I said trying to breathe.

“Very well then.” He smiled.

We were wrapping dinner up when he asked me to finish telling him why I took the position as his subject.

“I…wanted the experience.” I smiled lying.

“And?” he said placing his glass on the table.

“My God how do you do that?”

“Years without sight can enhance a lot of things my dear.” He smiled chuckling.

I giggled, “Honestly, I needed the money.”

“But you had no way of knowing how much I was offering.”

“True. But anything helps.”

“What kind of bind have you gotten yourself into?” he seemed concerned.

“College debt… I’m sure you know how the story goes.”

He nodded sitting up, “I do. Have you tried selling your work?”

I thought about it. I got a bit upset at the notion.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. I- I just… besides the works I create for assignments, my work is very private and personal to me.”

“I understand that. The same goes for me as well. However, that’s what makes it that much more special to show someone else. To share that intimacy with someone else; for someone else to experience the beauty you’ve captured. If I could give anything, I trade everything I have to see the look on an art lover’s face.” He seemed to take the moment for himself. I wanted to touch his hand but I felt like I’d be intruding. “Having the gift to paint or sculpt is not a talent or a gift for yourself but, for everyone around you. So you see Fiona, you must share you gifts. You never know if you’ll be able to appreciate them for long.” He sipped his wine and looked down.

I felt incredibly inspired when I went home. Even though I had school the next day, I stayed awake painting and drawing. At the end of the night I had painted three works and sketched countless random things. But the best thing I had drawn all night was two perfectly sketched hands palms opened facing up with immense detail.

It was his hands.

They were becoming the center of my world. Elongated and soft, not too skinny but not chubby. They made me wanna sculpt.

I tried concentrating throughout the week on school but I was so anxious to be Pierre’s subject that the days seemed to drag out until I saw him. I became more comfortable with him with each day. At one point I felt a little bad for taking money from him seeing as how I had a new best friend. It didn’t take long for me to save up enough to pay off my debt but Pierre still needed me.

After a month of going over to his place it was second nature to be naked on a table.

“Have you even started on the actual sculpture?” I asked drinking my third glass of wine.

“I have, but if I show you then I’ll never finish it.” He slid his finger tips down my scapula and then moved to my rib cages around the front of me lingering on each bone he could feel.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Letting someone see an incomplete work of mine makes me feel as though they will judge it wrongly so I’d rather show them once it’s finished.”

“Well technically I am the finished product.” I teased.

“Fiona, how many glasses of wine have you had?” he stopped.

“A couple.” I sipped my wine quickly.

“Ok. I think you’ve had enough to drink and you should be put to rest.” He took my glass from me.

“Oh come on just one more please?”

“No, no Fiona. You’re no good to me intoxicated.”

“But I don’t want to.” I pouted.

He seemed to get a little frustrated. “I’m going to ask you to get down. Am I going to have to remove you?”

“Live a little Pierre. Have another drink with me.”

He sighed deeply, “Very well then.” He picked me up. I wrapped my arms around him.

“Put me down.” I tried to protest.

“You need to sober up so I can work.” he walked slowly to the other side of the room and carried me through a door to a bedroom. It was decorated with gothic style furniture. It was black and burgundy with heavy drapery and medieval paintings. Instantly I knew it was Moneé’s room. He sat me on the bed gently and stepped back slowly. “I’ll have Moneé bring you some coffee.”

He tried to walk away but I grabbed his hand.

“Will you stay with me?”

He looked conflicted but then his expression softened and he sat down on the bed. I lay across his lap and closed my eyes until the dizziness in my head settled. I woke up later to find I had been dressed in a single night shirt with the covers pulled over me. It looked to be about 8ish outside. I got up and walked to the work room but it was empty. I went to the living room to find Pierre reading on the sofa.

“Hey.” I said standing in the door.

“Hello.” He said without looking around or moving.

“May I sit with you?”

“Yes.”

I walked over slowly and sat next to him.

“Are you well?” he asked still touching the pages of his book.

“Yeah I’m fine. I’m sorry about that. I’m not really a big drinker and I usually don’t have that much wine when I come over.”

“What happened earlier cannot happen again or I will ask you to leave. This is your first and last warning. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. I treat every piece as if it’s the most critical piece in my career. I can’t have it compromised by something like that ever again.”

“Yes. I understand completely. I apologize.”

He nodded and continued to read. The room fell silent besides the crinkling of his page turning.

“What are you reading?” I asked shyly.

“Sharp objects. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes. Can you show me how to read brail?” I asked with hopeful eyes. He motioned me over with two fingers. I scooted closer to him and he searched for my hand.

“Open your hand and loosen your fingers.” He put his hand over mine and placed it on the page. He told me what letters were which and what words I was passing over. I closed my eyes and let the knowledge sink in. After a while it didn’t just feel like a bumpy page. I could actually feel the difference in words and phrases.

“Wow. This is incredible.” I smiled with my eyes still closed. “How long did it take you to learn this?”

He let out a breath that was followed by a chuckle, “Four years. I was in denial of this disease for a long while and I was very stubborn about it. It made a lot of things difficult for me. Moneé was very patient with me.” He seemed grateful. I opened my eyes to look at him and studied his face. “It is quite late Fiona. You should probably get home.” He moved his hand from mine and closed his book getting up.

I felt a little sad that I had to leave.