Life as a Gay Greaser

Chapter 7

  In the morning I told Richard I had to go do something real quick, and that I'd be back. He looked at me worried, so I told him nothing was wrong. He still didn't look reasured, but went back to painting. Oh, did I mention that Richard was taking classes to become a painter. He wanted to be an artist when he was young, so his parents saved money. They saved enough money to put Richard in art classes, and that's what he has been doing most of his life. I know he has been painting and drawing since we were both 10 years old.

  I walked down the street to the theater, and saw that Lucy had decided to show up. She looked over at me. Her eyes were filled with hope. She must be desperate. I looked back at her with no emotion. I can't help it that I'm gay. It's just the way I am. She is just going to have to understand.

  "Hi", she said when I stepped beside her.

  "Hey Lucy." I had no emotion in my voice and words.

  "Why did you ask me to come here?"

  "Because I need to tell you something that you would probably handle better in person than over the phone."

  "Oh. Well what do you need to tell me?"

  "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in you. I hope you understand."

  "Why don't you just fake it? People do it all the time." She tried to kiss me, but I stepped away.

  "Sorry. I just can't do that, and we were never a thing in the first place. So don't try now. Good bye Lucy. Don't get caught up on me." I walked back to Richard's house. Richard was still painting. Except that Richard was three forth of the way done. I creeped over to Richard to see what he was painting. I creeped over to him out of habit from being a Greaser.

  As I creeped towards Richard, I noticed that he was now painting in the livening room. There were two bright brown couches, a dark brown wooded rocking chair, a black end table between the two couches. There was also a black chair. Richard's parents had three windows in their livening room, and a porch connected to the house. You would walk through the livening room if you came in through the porch. Richard asked his parents if he could paint their livening room walls grey when he was 13. They had light blue walls, but let Richard paint the walls a light shade of grey.

  Now back to what Richard was painting. I looked over Richard's shoulder, and let out a little gasp. The painting was stunning. He painted a unicorn with different shades of yellow, orange, and red. The background had different shades of blue for the sky, and different shades of green for the ground. There was a sun with a mixture of yellow, orange, and red. The painting was in 3-D, and looked magical.

  "And done.", Richard sighed, "What do you think Marshal?"

  "I think it looks splendid and magical."

  "Thanks and it's for the little kids in elementary."

  "Is that so? Well I think when the little kids see it, they will think unicorns are real."

  "And that's okay if they do. By the way. What did you go do?"

  "I went to tell Lucy I wasn't interested in her. Why do you ask?"

  "I was just curious. Do you want to help me deliver the painting when it's dry?" I nodded my head, and sat down on the couch.

  Two hours later, Richard and I were taking the painting to the elementary school. Richard had to call the school earlier to tell them we were bringing the painting they asked for, so they weren't surprised when we get there. I should probably mention that the high scholars are on break. Sadly, out gang did not skip school.

  We arrived at the elementary, and the kids were bouncing off the walls when they saw the painting. Richard had a large grin on his face. I was happy for Richard. It wasn't every day he got reactions like this from his paintings. I told him to get his work out. I told him to give some of his masterpieces to a museum. He listened to me when I said this. One of the local art museums had three paintings, and two sculptors of his. This is what led to him painting the unicorn for the elementary students.

  I asked Richard if he wanted to go see his three paintings and two sculptors in the museum. His response was grabbing me by the arm, and dragging me all the way to the museum. He did this when he was in a hurry, excited, nervous, or scared. I think of it as that was he way he was born. So it didn't really bother me when he drags me around by the arm. I told the kids and teacher bye over my shoulder.

  Richard quit dragging me when we got to the entrance of the museum. I watched him shift from one foot to other slowly. Now he suddenly seems scared. He is probably worried that they moved his masterpieces. I put my hand on his shoulder, telling him to go on and it will okay. He straitened his posture before going inside. We went into the gallery that had some of the newest art. I looked around the room, and noticed that the sculptors and paintings were on two different sides, away from each other. At least they were still there. I looked over at Richard and saw the relief flash in his eyes. We walked over to the sculptors, but before we could. I saw a familiar person on the other side of the room.