The Lockdown

3

They fell into an easy rhythm the next couple of days. After a light breakfast, the mornings started with exercises, mixing yoga which Andy still hated with calisthenics that Cam detested. They prepared lunch together Cam leading the way though Andy was getting better, well, less incompetent to put it generously, after which Cam went into his bedroom to do his job. That was the hardest part of the day as Andy was struggling to occupy himself with doing something useful so he started doodling in an empty notebook he found in his bedroom. In high school, Andy was forced to take up art for at least a semester. His teacher found him exasperating as he got bored with everything after two minutes of trying until one day they were asked to draw a still life of fruits the teacher had set up in the middle of the room. Andy always liked doodling, filling up the margins of his textbooks rather than paying attention in classes. His first attempts were rather pitiful but the teacher must have noticed that he actually enjoyed doing it so she started teaching him about perspectives, introduced him to different techniques and materials.

The process of drawing calmed Andy down and focused his attention even resulting in better grades in his other subjects. After high school, he slowly abandoned the craft as other things, mainly girls, held his attention more, so when the doodling reminded him that maybe starting again could help him this time as well, he immediately called his mother and asked if she kept his materials from high school. He borrowed a car from a friend living nearby and drove forty minutes to arrive to his childhood home in the suburbs of Minneapolis. He found a large box on the porch unable to go in and hug his mother because of the pandemic. The box had several sketchpads of varying sizes, his pencils, cans of setting spray, some crayons and charcoal. To his delight, next to the box there was a small easel, a few empty canvases and acrylic paints as well. He completely forgot that he got those one Christmas because his parents thought that he may want to develop his art further but he never did.

His mother was approaching sixty living alone ever since his father died a couple of years ago. She had diabetes and they agreed on the phone that it was not worth risking the personal touch they both craved in order to have a future together when they can hug again. They talked for a while through the screen door both worrying about the other. Andy made her promise to be careful, to call him if she needed anything, her mother agreed extracting a bargain in exchange to call her more often and they said their goodbyes misty eyed.

He drove back to his apartment and started organizing his equipment on the kitchen peninsula straightaway. He took an apple from the fridge and set it in front of him. He got into the rhythm of drawing easily and he completely got caught up in the act of creation until he realized that Cam came out of his room and he was standing in front of the island, his attention captivated by the sketch.

"I didn't know you can do that," he remarked. Andy looked up startled. "Ugh, it is nothing... it's just a little hobby I used to do in high school and I thought that maybe I could start going at it again..." he stuttered a bit as he was explaining himself. He looked up and noticed that it was already dark outside. "I am sorry," he jumped up. "I completely lost track of time, I should have started on dinner already."

"You worry a bit too much, Andy," Cam chuckled and pushed him down back into his seat. "Just keep doing that and I will put something together quickly. You do draw a nice apple though..."

Andy's cheeks turned pink and murmured "I can do much more I just wanted to start with something familiar."

"No doubt," replied Cam rummaging in the fridge pulling out some ingredients for their dinner. "We can set up your easel by the window, let's just move the bike around a bit and there is ample space for you if you like."

"No, no, no," protested Andy. "It's way too early for that, I am not even sure I want to paint at all."

"Maybe you could start drawing on larger pieces of paper using the easel for a start," suggested the younger man."

"That's not a bad idea, thank you," he replied as he was already looking at the corner excited about the possibility of doing something on a bigger scale.

Cam made a simple pasta with some salad and after dinner they quickly rearranged the living room, set up the easel next to the window so Andy could use as much natural light during the day as the restrictions of the widow allowed. They sat on the couch satisfied and watched a Netflix movie. Cam looked at Andy from the corner of his eyes and realized that he had not been this relaxed ever since he moved in. 'This should be good for him,' he thought. Andy took to the realities of their restricted life much harder than him, he was always fidgety and a little bit jumpy bottling up his emotions and Cam kept worrying about his mental state exacerbated by the lockdown.

Andy spent the next afternoon sketching. He arranged a still-life with every fruit he could find in the apartment along with some bowls and a dishcloth from the cupboard. He drew it from different angles, rearranging and changing some elements until he was satisfied and proceeded to use a charcoal for a different style. He lost track of the time again and when Cam came out of his room in the evening, he smiled at the youngster satisfied.

Andy looked around at the messy kitchen and frowned. "I think I have had enough for today. Let me just clean this up quickly and we can have dinner." He looked at his hands stained with charcoal and realized that it might be a bad idea if he touched anything. "I'd better wash my hands first," he said heading to the sink. As he was scrubbing the coal residue off his fingers he grimaced. "I am cramping a bit, I think I overdid it a little, maybe I should slow down or something." Cam looked at him concerned, turned around silently and went back to his room. Andy was drying his hands with a dish cloth when Cam returned carrying a small towel and a jar of hand cream.

"Is that for me?" asked Andy. "Thank you," he said reaching out for the jar.

"Nope," said Cam, "sit down!" Andy sat down by the peninsula confused. "I think it would be more comfortable on the couch." Cam instructed Andy who had no idea why it would be better to use some hand lotion on the couch but decided that it did not really matter and followed his roommate to the living room. He sat down, Cam hopped on the sofa sitting in a lotus position pulling a pillow from behind his back to his lap and reached for Andy's right hand. Andy complied looking at the small boy curiously. Cam spread the towel on the pillow, put a bit of cream on his fingers and gently started spreading it on Andy's hand. He massaged the lotion carefully into his skin slowly applying more pressure. Andy looked at him inquisitively. "A man of many talents."

"It's nothing," Cam replied cheerfully. "I can do a lot more than this." Andy blushed visibly. "Oh, no... I did not mean it that way, it is not sexual or anything... well, not always," it was the younger man's turn to blush. "My ex used to do some MMA and after he got home from training he was sometimes extremely tense and cramped up and a little massage usually helped relieve him."

"Well, whatever it is, this feels amazing. Thank you very much," Andy sighed contentedly sinking into the soft couch. Cam kept going for another twenty minutes and when he finished, he put the pillow on Andy's lap and placed his hand on top.

"Now sit here and relax while I make something for dinner." Andy started protesting but Cam silenced him with a look. "Stay! You can clean up afterwards," he commanded the older man.

"Yes, sir, Master Sergeant Reyes!" Andy complied.

"It's about time I get the respect I deserve," chuckled the youngster skipping to the kitchen to start making dinner. Andy looked at him fondly and realized that for the first time in a long while he did not worry about the pandemic, the lockdown or the future, he was simply....at ease.