Painting Wolves

Chapter 2

     Mam eventually stopped crying. It took a while, but she finally seemed stable enough for me to leave her alone. The empty hole in my heart where my grief had been ached, and I rubbed my chest and sighed. Not yet. Had to take care of all that adult business before I could curl up and cry like a kid. "I'll take care of all the funeral proceedings Mam."

      There was no response from her. She just sat at her pottery wheel and threw pot after pot after plate after cup like an automaton. I sighed. "Alright Mam. I'll call you before I leave for Tennessee."

      I closed the door behind me softly. Through the door I could hear Mam's pottery wheel whirring, and the wet sound of clay being slapped onto the wheel and shaped. I held onto the knob and listened for a minute before taking a deep breath and a step forward. The street was quiet, occupied by only a few people walking home from work. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the steel and concrete monoliths. Normally this sight would be inspiring, exciting to me. All I felt right now was lonely.

I started walking towards my apartment. It was only a few blocks from Mam's studio. No need to call a cab. The concrete made a gritty sound under my sneakers. All of a sudden, I was overcome by a desire to stand on earth. Not concrete, not some manicured park, but earth that stretched as far as I could see. A wave of dizziness swept over me, and I blacked out for a second. I stumbled into an big office building, startling a businessman on his way out. I heard him breathe in sharply as I almost hit him, then breathe out in annoyance. My vision cleared a bit. He was looking at me with condescending eyes, no doubt thinking I was just a drunk, but noticed my pallor. His look changed to one of concern.

     "Hey, you okay kid?" He dropped his briefcase and hurried towards where I was sliding down the side of the building.

      The feeling of the concrete against my arm was distant- numbed. I blinked, trying to bring my eyes into focus. When that failed, I coughed and shook my head in an effort to shake the dizziness. The world spun and dimmed. Okay, not a good idea.

      The businessman was standing over me, waving his hands and speaking from what seemed to be a great distance. I felt myself leave the concrete as the man scooped me up in his arms. My arm flapped bonelessly as he ran. My vision faded to pinpricks. I could hear a frantic voice asking for help. Then darkness dragged me under to blissful numbness.

     When I woke up, I was in a room I didn't recognize. I sat up quickly, turning my head wildly as I tried to find something- anything- that would tell me where I was. When I saw Daniel sitting in a chair by my bed- I just blinked. I was in a bed? Why was I in a bed? Oh my god what the hell happened?

     I quickly retraced my steps in my mind. Okay, I'd felt dizzy, then passed out in some guy's arms. I winced. Damn, Genny would've killed me for doing this again. It figures that as soon as she died I would fall apart. I looked at Daniel. He looked back, and raised an eyebrow.

     "Sup," I said quietly, raising a hand and waving it at him. He closed his eyes as if he was pained, and sighed.

     "How did you manage to forget to eat again?" He looked disappointedly at me. 

     I shrugged. When I was home alone I really only remembered to eat when Molly, my cat, bugged me to feed her. It was probably time to feed her now. I'd better pick up some wet food on the way home to make up for missing her dinner time. Hey, wasn't this my bed? I realized that this was my apartment after all. Wow, all that freak-out for nothing.

     Daniel groaned. "Why are the good artists always either absolutely bonkers or so absentminded they would lose their own heads if they weren't attached?"