Holding My Breath [Wattys 2016]

2 6 ~ R u s t y

                

Present Day ~ May 20, 2011

"I have an idea!" Bailey storms in the room and flips on the lights. I yawn and sit up on the bed, squinting at the frazzled girl rifling through canvases in the corner. She suddenly perks up when she finds the right one and positions it on the easel. "This is an old one. I can use the colors as an undertone for an abstract I have in mind..."

"It's, like two in the morning."

"But I had an idea," she says, trailing off as she stares at the orange flecks of paint that stand in front of her. She pauses there for a moment, and I wait. Eventually, I give up and fall back into the pillow. "The pumpkin I painted last year? A perfect hue. I don't know if I can mix it again... no, definitely won't work."

I groan into the pillow, then sit back up to look at her again. "What?"

"It sucks. Can't even tell what it is. I have no choice but to scrap it." She shakes her head at the art.

"I thought you had an idea."

"I did. But it won't work. This doesn't even look like a pumpkin." She holds up another painting next to it to compare. "It's more like cat puke. Or a fireball gone wrong. It's unacceptable."

"No, I'm pretty sure it looks like a pumpkin," I say, watching her expression more than the painting. I don't want her to go crazy and start smashing it or something.

"It looks like a warped chunk of orange play-doh."

"I mean, it could also be a carrot salad, but there's no judgment here," I say. She gives me an exasperated look and I fight the urge to laugh.

"I'm starting a new one." She grabs the canvas and starts to toss it aside.

"No don't!" I jump up and take it from her, holding it up to the light. Bailey pauses to look at where I'm pointing on the painting. "Hold on... just add some black there."

"Huh..." Her mumble trails into her thoughts again. After a moment of carefully speculating the art, she puts it back on the easel and glances back at me. "You know, you're pretty useful."

"I'm paying my rent," I smile. It feels good to flop back down on the bed again.

"I have a few painting gigs set up if you want to come along. They're boring alone." She's already squirting some paint onto a pallet and dabbing at it with a brush. She's going to paint now? In the middle of the night?

"Like jobs? People pay you to paint stuff?" She nods but doesn't look back at me. "And you want me to help, knowing that I can't draw a straight line?"

"You have a good eye," she shrugs, starting to push paint over parts of the pumpkin.

"Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

I lay my head on the pillow for a moment. It's not like she knows who I am... and I might get some extra money from it... If I keep my face hidden with a hat... what's the harm?

"Okay... I'm in." I take a deep breath and press my fists into my eyes. "But, can I please go back to sleep now?"