The Painting

#79 Paint and Canvas Part 1 - Peint Agus Chanbhas Cuid 1

"Have you heard anything?"

I'd been half awake intending on turning over to spare my numb shoulder when I caught a piece of Lyle's conversation.

"They are leaning on the fraud charges," Frankie's voice came into focus as he spoke uncharacteristically slow. "Police are leaving the murder and intended murder alone until the video can be authenticated."

"What about the cop he bribed?"

"He's named another boy in blue Monroe bought but they're both lawyered up, probably waiting to get a better deal for flipping."

At the sound of Monroe's name my eyes fluttered open.

"But he will flip?" I asked without missing a beat.

"How long have you been awake?" Lyle nudged me with her arm which I'd been using as a pillow.

I smiled sleepily and shifted to look at Frankie. "The entire police department is on him, they don't take kindly to one of their own double crossing. Apparently his visit to Beth and Ivy's was not the first favor he'd done for our favorite business tycoon."

I hadn't realized but I'd fallen asleep clutching my locket and at Frankie's news I gripped it tightly. "When will we know more?"

He shrugged and looked off into the distance. The fire flys were actively blinking and I wondered how long I'd been asleep. "No way to know."

"Oh." I shrunk back down in to Lyle's side.

What was wrong with me? Hours ago I was bent on keeping myself as far away from Monroe and his case. As long as he was behind bars that was all I needed to now. And he was- for now.

But as soon as Frankie mentioned the bribed cop I felt a sudden itch to know more. I closed my eyes and tried to shake the feeling but sleep wouldn't come.

I rummaged through my duffle bag in annoyance. The clock read 5:23am but I was wide awake. Frankie left to go upstairs soon after he'd finished updating us on the police investigation and Lyle fell asleep almost immediately. Unable to sleep myself, I tried to stay quiet and cuddled in Lyle's arms until the sun came up.

That was when I saw it. It wasn't all at once but steadily, like a leaky faucet filling up a cup until I could see the entire space.

Thirty feet away the line of lanterns led to a doc that extended onto a lake. The body of water was easily five times the size of the pond behind the Bullfrog Country Club. The rolling grass dipped behind the lake into what I assumed to be a lower platue, making it appear as though the sun rose from the water's edge.

The water nestled in a slight dip in the land leaving room for flooding and on the gentle hill the dense tree lie that hugged the house extended to surround the water. The lightning bugs were replaced with dragon flies that flitted close to the house before following the path to the reeds and tall grass growing out of the water.

Inspired by the way the light cast a shadow on the gentle tide I removed myself as carefully as possible from Lyle's hold.

"They have to be in here somewhere." I tossed my clothes onto the kitchen counter.

Frustrated I empty the entire contents and shook the bag leaving little pieces of lent to scatter on the floor.

"The hell?"

I whipped to find Frankie descending the stairs. He wore the same clothes he wore last night and it went without saying that he hadn't slept either.

"Sorry." I grumbled bending down to pick the pieces of dust off the floor.

"Forget something?" He went over to a cabinet and pulled out a plastic bag of mini muffins. He threw one at me and I surprisingly caught it.

"I didn't bring my pencils or paper." I confessed realizing how stupid it sounded. Surely Frankie would have a pencil. I scanned the room but came up empty handed.

He obviously agreed with me as he raised a judgmental eyebrow. But his mood quickly changed and he held up his hand for me to stay put. I watched as my friend shoved three mini muffins in his mouth and went jogging down the hallway.

In three minutes he was back. His skinny arms struggled to keep his load from dropping to the ground. I met him in the middle of the room and grabbed what I could.

"Where did you get these?" I squinted my eyes as if I were seeing things wrong.

Laid out on the counter were a dozen bottles of oil paint, a bundle of paint brushes, a stack of thin canvases and an easel.

"Here you can use this for water." He handed me an old plastic cup with a picture of Barbie on the side.

I didn't have time to reply. Grabbing two more packets of mini muffins and a pudding cup Frankie marched himself back upstairs.

I stared dumbly at the loot I'd just been presented with.

Oil paint. My mother's medium.

I'd tried oil paints before, hell I tried all types of paints, water color, acrylics, but none worked for me. No matter what I did I was never able to master the blending or the shadow and light that my mother could. With a pencil or pen it was easier. There was only one tool, one color, more control – especially with an eraser.

I looked through the sliding doors the clear morning giving me an unobstructed view of the sunrise. Gorgeous pinks and yellows blending together like dye and transferred an orange reflection in the rippling water.

My hand wavered over my locket. This was the kind of scene my mother would live for. The kind of quiet where she felt most at home. A calm settled over me just as it had at Mo Soileireacht. Feeling balanced I scooped the materials into my arms and marched out the door. 

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