Odalisque
Fifty-six
FRIDAY, IT WARMED UP by nine and looked like a good weekend. It was just Kate and me until mid-afternoon. Melody had a bunch of stuff to get ready for our sales area at National Singles. I was beginning to dread the week in California. I was only practicing on Tuesday and Thursday nights with the team. I couldn’t let racquetball bog me down when I had a wall to work on with the Memorial Day dedication looming ever closer.
Saturday morning, we started early. I was onsite at eight and painting by nine with a full crew. This was the push. There were still several quadrants that needed more depth and long-distance texture and four more focal points that needed to be laid in. Those glaring white spaces on the wall looked ominous. Kate and I focused on one focal point and Maggie and Jim were on another. Amy fearlessly moved her lift from area to area as she spotted the defective highlights and shadows, but the other one sat idle. Two would go back to PCAD after this weekend.
My music stopped, which meant it was noon and we were supposed to take a break, but Kate and I just kept on working. It was only a couple of minutes later that I heard three strikes on a huge drum that rumbled and echoed against the wall. Kate looked at me and grinned. I glanced down to see the whole Oregon commune with their drums joining the beat one after another. People flooded through the gates and dropped money in the boxes. There were already over a hundred on the field watching us. Holy shit! I saw that Justin and Amanda were with the drummers, as well. In a matter of minutes, the drums were at full rhythm. I smiled at Kate and we painted.
The first time I heard them, I thought that the school ought to hire them for a dance. I knew they could go non-stop for four hours and that meant we’d have a productive afternoon. Kate and I caught the rhythm and painted as if we were one hand. Every so often, we would just be caught up dancing on our platform and into each other as much as the painting. We got our safety harnesses tangled once.
But we kept painting.
We were working on a picture of an old woman in her tent. I’d only met her once, but I knew her. She’d died in the fire. That wasn’t what we were painting, though. In the image we were working on, the old woman was reading a book by the light cast from an oil lamp. She looked peaceful and happy. It was what I hoped the afterlife had in store for her if there was one.
Two or three times we had to lower our lift and step out in the field to get a good view of the wall. We used the restroom and then ran right back to our lift and put more paint on. We barely heard the bells ringing, signaling the start of dancing. We let the sounds of Oke’s guitar and Amanda’s flute just carry us further into the painting. And when Allison joined the fray with some vocalese extemporizing with the guitar and flute, we flooded the painting with tears as well as color.
I could hear the drummers winding down. Kate and I dropped our brushes and kissed each other as the lift took us down. There were four huge strikes of the big drums and then everything went silent.
Out of the silence came the applause. I looked up and there were hundreds of people in the field. Okay? Two hundred is hundreds and I’m pretty sure there were more than that. It had been a hell of a party. Ken, Oke, and Gypsy found us and hugged Kate and me. I saw my brushes and paint disappear from behind me and knew someone else was cleaning up my mess. I sent them a silent thank you. Our Oregon trio was right with us and the girls were in costume to dance with Gypsy. The rest of the Oregonians were there as well. Amanda and Justin shoved a little to get up to us. All I could do was keep saying “thank you” to everyone I met.
“It looks good on her,” Gypsy said.
After everything was cleaned up and put away on the jobsite and the drums were loaded back in their campers, we invaded Carmine’s Cucina. I’d lost track of the number of people who were with us. It was most of the adults from the commune, my wives, their girlfriends, and a few others. Wendy had warned Carma and she’d set two long banquet tables right down the middle of the restaurant. They were serving a capacity crowd at the other tables and booths. Wendy still had fifteen minutes before she could join us as Carma had needed all her waiters for most of the evening. I was sitting between Gypsy and Kate.
“What?” I asked.
“The jewelry on your fourth queen,” Gypsy said. Wendy was wearing her collar as she waited on tables. I had thought our agreement was that she wouldn’t wear it unless we were alone together, but I suppose that would mean she couldn’t show the beautiful jewelry to anyone else. And she did love it. As a waitress, I suppose she was acting as a servant. I wasn’t going to get mad about it.
“It’s her favorite thing. I don’t even know where she got it. She just asked me to give it to her,” I said. That still puzzled me, but I didn’t expect Gypsy’s laughter.
“You really don’t know?” she said. “It came from the same place as your bracelet.”
“I guess I don’t even know where that came from. Lissa and Melody bought it for me in Chicago and it had to be shipped to them from the manufacturer,” I said, looking at the chain I always wore on my left wrist instead of a watch.
“A manufacturer of jewelry is called a jeweler,” Gypsy said with a little huff. I was a bit in the dark.
“Tony,” Kate whispered to me, “I should have told you. Those are both Mama’s creations. Your bracelet is what was in the painting over her fireplace. I thought you recognized it.”
Oh my. Wait. That was before we knew Gypsy and hadn’t made Kate a part of our ménage yet.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“None of us did,” Gypsy said. “They chose it out of a catalog of my pieces. I didn’t know until I saw it when you visited.”
“And you made Wendy’s col… necklace, too?” I asked.
“I asked her to,” Kate said. “I knew at New Year’s what Wendy wanted. I thought if I had it in my hands, I’d get used to the idea and be able to do what you did. I couldn’t. Thank you so much, my love.”
I heard a dish crash back in the kitchen. Wendy rushed to us, practically falling over the table to get between Kate and me. She hid her face against me and was shaking like a leaf.
“What is it, Tiger?” I asked.
“Rafe.” A chill went down my spine.
I looked over and a young man stood inside the doorway of the restaurant with a willowy woman quietly behind him. He was asking the hostess something and she turned to look, pointing directly over to us. The guy looked up and caught my eye. He wasn’t what I expected. In fact, he wasn’t at all what I expected. Rafe was a skinny, nerd with thick glasses and acne scars. He headed our way.
I stood up and placed myself between Wendy and the couple.
“Excuse me,” he said. His voice was no stronger than the rest of his appearance. “I’d like to speak to Wendy, please.”
“She would rather not speak with you, Rafe,” I said. He was startled that I knew his name. “We’d like you to leave now.”
“You don’t understand,” he stumbled. “I don’t want to hurt her. I want to return something of hers.” Kate held Wendy next to me on one side. Melody and Bree were on the other side. Lissa, Whitney, and Allison were standing behind the couple. Wendy pulled away from Kate and stood trembling beside me. I put an arm around her.
“I don’t belong to you,” she said, looking at him. “I belong to Tony.”
Rafe looked at me again and reached in his pocket. We all tensed. He pulled out a roll of money. He held it out to Wendy.
“I took this from you. I thought I was just going to keep it for you, but then I got carried away and got scared and left. When I came back, you were gone and I didn’t know where. I didn’t try very hard to find you because… I was afraid you’d press charges. Last night there was a news show about the guy who’s going on trial for that Tent City attack. They showed a big memorial wall that’s being painted and said that the guy’s daughter had been living in the encampment. They showed a picture of you,” Rafe said. “I just wanted to give you back your money.”
Wendy looked at the money in her hand and threw it on the table.
“Go away now, Rafe,” she said. I was so proud of her. She was being so strong. Rafe looked at her, nodded and started to back away.
“Wait,” I commanded. He froze. “There’s one more thing you owe her.” He looked at me and nodded.
“I’m sorry, Wendy. I was a bastard, hooked on drugs, and thought I knew all about everything because I’d watched so much porn. I mistreated you. I… I guess I failed you. I’m sorry.” He turned and headed toward the door. The willowy woman with him smiled at Wendy and winked, then followed him out the door.
Wendy collapsed against me, panting.
“I did it! I did it! I told him to go away,” she sobbed. “I did it.”
“I’m so proud of you, Tiger,” I said. She turned to Kate.
“I did it,” she said again. Then she laid a kiss on Kate that turned on everyone in the restaurant. Wow! In a moment she was hugging me and whispered in my ear.
“Thank you, master.”
“It still bugs me,” I said to the women gathered in the bedroom. It was just too crowded to get all eight of us in the spa. We’d had an intense day painting and more excitement at the restaurant. I was glad to get home and couldn’t fault anyone for wanting to stay together tonight. The Oregon contingent, except the trio in Kate’s room, all had space in the several campers they’d driven up and parked in our driveway and yard. Grandpa Ken’s last words to me before they retired were, “and not a shot was fired or a hand raised.”
“What’s bothering you, lover,” Melody asked, rubbing my shoulders.
“Well, he apologized to Tiger, but now he’s got that little girl following him around like a puppy. What if he starts beating her, too?” I didn’t expect Lissa and Whitney to break out in giggles. “What? What are you laughing about? I’m serious.”
“You didn’t see,” Whitney laughed. “It must have been part of their deal to keep it hidden.”
“What?”
“She had him on a leash!” Lissa crowed. “It was attached to the fairy-loop on his shirt. She isn’t his slave. He’s hers!”
It took a minute for that to soak in and then we all started laughing.
“Well, I hope he gets some of his own back,” I said.
“No, Tony. Don’t wish that,” Wendy pled. “Wish him happiness in his station. Let’s put it behind us, please? I truly hope he is as happy as I am.” She kissed me soundly.
“Um… anyone want to catch me up on what’s happening?” Allison asked. Wendy turned to her.
“Tony gave me this for my birthday last weekend,” Wendy pointed at the collar. It was the only thing she was wearing. “He didn’t know he was giving this. I asked for it and Kate made it happen. We all know slavery isn’t legal, and I’m not a slave. But I am Tony’s. I gave myself to him. I love Kate and Kate loves me. I’ll do anything for Kate that she asks because I love her. I’ll do whatever Tony says because I belong to him. I trust him to treat me right. And even to love me a little. If you ever think I’m being abused, say so. And don’t think anybody else can just order me around. I’m a person just like you.”
“And we love you just like you are, Tiger,” Bree said. “You’ve shown me more courage since I’ve known you than anyone I’ve ever met. You’d damned well better treat her right, Tony. You’ll have all the rest of us to answer to.”
The weather was incredible on Sunday. It was over fifty all day and it was reaching the mid-seventies by noon. The drummers had agreed to do a second day of drumming and people were pouring into the field. Some had brought chairs and some even had drums so they could join in. We were doing a lot of prep work on the seventeenth focal point—quadrant 36. I’d erased everything in it and had sketched a few lines to show what I wanted. Jim and Maggie were working together on the focal point in quadrant 22, almost as far away from Kate and me as they could get. What was going to get the attention, though, was about ten feet to our left on another lift—our model.
“Nude?” Wendy had asked me when I proposed it last night.
“No, Tiger,” I said. “Bare shoulders, but nothing else. I want you sitting up in your sleeping bag with a blanket wrapped around you. But you’ll have to pose a long time. It won’t be like when we could take a break every twenty minutes. It could be three hours, but if you really can’t stay there that long, we’ll break when you need to.”
“No second cup of coffee tomorrow,” she’d said.
I made sure she had sunblock on her shoulders, arms, and back before we got her posed on the lift the way I wanted her. Kate and I went to our platform and elevated it to where we’d be working. Bree, Melody, Whitney, Lissa, Allison, and the trio surrounded Wendy at her platform and we were ready. Grandpa Ken hit four strong strokes and the drummers were in motion.
What a sound! I could feel the wall vibrate as we reached out to touch it, to absorb the rhythms and the spirit. Kate and I turned to look at Wendy. Bree operated the controls to raise her platform to the level where we wanted it and sat next to Wendy so they could talk. Wendy was perfect. The sleeping bag covered her legs and up to her waist. She had a blanket clutched to her front and an end tossed over one shoulder. She clutched her stuffed tiger to her breast and looked up as if startled. And she wore her collar. I snapped several reference shots from our position, in case we had to work longer than Wendy could stand.
Then Kate and I went to work on the ultimate focal point.
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