Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

Cobalt Green

The surprise is secret rooftop access, obtained via a narrow ladder located on the loft level of the cottage.

As for the roof itself, we'd crafted it on a flat enough pitch to allow for one to comfortably sit atop of it. In addition, my ever creative, endlessly talented fathers had also built a small rooftop deck, one that they'd filled over the years with an assortment of hardy plants. Plants now tumbling with wild freedom out of their terra cotta pots in their eternal quest to overtake not just the roof, but the entire cottage.

And so, the world of the rooftop is one of a wide assortment of greenery. Greenery which has successfully begun to stretch and crawl its way across the deck, over the roof itself, and down onto the waiting walls below. Most notably, perhaps, is a particularly prolific series of ivy vines which have actually managed to climb its way halfway down the side of the cottage.

On our way up, I silently gesture for Evan to grab the bag with the watercolour supplies, which he does, winking at me as he slings it over his shoulder and follows after Reggie and I.

I lead the way, my excitement building to nearly unbearable levels as I watch Reggie climb the rungs of the ladder behind me. Taking his hand and he rises to his feet on the rooftop, I whisper eagerly, "Well, then?"

What do you think?

A gasp. A gasp as he surveys the view the rooftop affords us. And I watch as he takes it all in: the clearing around the cottage, the lake, the sea of trees stretching out all around us, as far as the eye can see. Squeezing my hand by way of acknowledgement, he calls down to Evan, now climbing up the ladder, "Evan ... Evan you have to witness this for yourself -"

Sure enough, as Evan rises to join us, he sighs and smiles, "Perfection. Absolute perfection."

As we sit together on the rooftop, I teach them the basics of watercolour painting, "... You'll get a feel for it with practice. Just enjoy, that's really what it's all about, right?"

With that, they begin. And they each take to it, nearly immediately, both in terms of promising raw talent and also enjoyment. We fall into a productive silence, the three of us, and in that silence we're able to fully enjoy the sounds of the forest as we sit and paint.

After a time, looking up from my own work, I see Reggie, brush in hand, staring in awe at Evan as he works.

And that's because Evan's work ...

Something we'd never expect from him -

Not in a million years -

... But then again, Evan always surprises, doesn't he?

To know Evan is to know surprise

Because Evan, unlike Reggie or myself, isn't at all focused on capturing realistic impressions of the scenery around us. Instead, he sits cross legged in the space between us, a half dozen or so paintings all around him.

Each incredibly beautiful abstractions

Each breathtakingly dreamlike

Gorgeous webs of colour that danced and played their way freely across the pages

As for Evan himself, he's so fully absorbed, so completely lost in his own little world, humming softly to himself as he continues to work on his newest creation.

This one, a latticework of dark blue and delicate golden yellow filigree

Finally, after a few moments, he snaps back to our reality, suddenly aware of the silence and stillness with which we've been observing him. Lifting his head up from the page and glancing between Reggie and I, his cheeks flush a sudden bright scarlet, "... Hi ..."