“Yes. Water-based. If any younger ones are interested, we’ll have supplies.” He smiled. “I was thinking you could do the class next Tuesday. That will give me a chance to get the word out.” Enrique was excited about this opportunity. Usually it was just him and he worked with the kids alone. The energy in Devon’s eyes was catching and attractive.
Enrique needed to back away from those kinds of thoughts. In the first place, this was rural Alaska. Who knew how everyone around the lake would take the news that he liked guys? Though he supposed that with as few secrets as there were in this place, most people probably already knew. He had told a few people close to him. In the end he figured that wouldn’t be too big a deal. The simple fact was that he didn’t trust himself. Years of crawling into a bottle and then finally coming out on the other side had left him questioning so many things about his life and his choices, not least of which was his taste in men.
Still, Devon made him want things. The way his eyes danced when he talked about painting… his scent as he sat close to him, leg bouncing with energy. Devon was alive with it. Maybe he didn’t realize the truth, but he was. There was a pall of some sort over the energy, damping it down, but Enrique saw it and felt it in the very room. That energy acted like a magnet, pulling him closer and working its magic on the walls he had built to allow himself to get through the days with what little was left of himself intact.
“Sorry….” He realized Devon had been talking and he had been off in his own head and hadn’t heard a word.
“I was saying that we’ll need small canvases. I’m going to have to go into Anchorage this week, so I’ll pick them up.”
“There’s money for the center, so….”
Devon shook his head. “I’ll donate them and some other supplies to the center. I think it’s an amazing idea, and I love the thought of the people here getting their art on. I wish we’d had programs like this when I was a kid.”
“Me too. I learned my art from my grandfather, though. He taught me the stories of his people, and he was a skilled artist, so he showed me what he knew.” It had been an amazing time in his life. But then the old man had died and, well, everything had changed. His reason for living had changed. “Now what I do is for him so he would be proud.”
“Do you work in more than clay?” Devon asked.
“Yes. Maybe someday I’ll show that to you. Those pieces are very personal.” Enrique had never shown them to anyone before. They were for himself and for the man he thought of like his grandfather, Grandpa Kallik. “Anyway, I think what you have planned will be great.” He got up to leave. Staying any longer would invite temptation.
“I have some sorbet in the freezer,” Devon said. “And I know Dad. He loves it, so if we share some, maybe he’ll eat a little.”
Enrique leaned over the table. “Is he not eating?”
“Not very much. He had half a sandwich for lunch and a little dinner last night. I was hoping his appetite would return so he could get stronger, but he doesn’t seem to be very hungry.” Devon stood and got out some bowls and a carton of raspberry sorbet. That looked good, and when Devon passed a bowl over, Enrique couldn’t help himself.
“This was my favorite when I was a kid. Dad always had some in the freezer.”
Devon took his dad a bowl, and after putting what was left back in the freezer, he joined Enrique at the table.
“How long are you staying?” Enrique asked. At least he would know the amount of time he was going to have to be strong and resist this attraction to Devon.
Back when they’d known each other as kids, it had been so much easier. Enrique hadn’t understood who he was and what he wanted. His mind had been jumbled. Only his grandfather and the time he spent with him seemed right. Devon Starr had been nice to him, a good person, and Enrique had had feelings for Devon that he didn’t understand. He’d even thought they were wrong back then.
He knew now that what he’d felt had been okay, but that was a different time and he had been a different person.
“A few weeks, I guess. Though it depends on how well Dad is doing. I want to see that he’s well on the road to recovery.”
Enrique could understand that. “Don’t you need to get back to your work and galleries and things? Charles told us all that you had a big show and that your work was in huge demand.” Enrique expected Devon to tell him all about it, but instead he got a very faraway look.
“Success comes and goes, and right now, as far as I’m concerned, it’s giving me the north end of a moose heading south.” Devon pushed the last of his dessert away. It must be bad if the guy was willing to forego this luscious confection. “My last show was decidedly lackluster. Most of the pieces sold, but the reviews were mixed, and I understand why. I just don’t know what to do to fix it.”
Enrique thought for a few minutes as he finished eating and then stood, motioning Devon toward the door. He didn’t wait to see if he followed. Enrique pulled open the door and stepped outside.
Devon came out behind him, and he led the way down the path to the water. “Did you want to say something that you didn’t want my dad to hear?”
Enrique sighed and pointed. “Look. My grandfather said that if you lack inspiration or focus, just come out here and look around. Where else on earth can you see a lake like that, the loons gliding on the water above, paddling like crazy down below? And looking over all of it is the god of mountains, the high place, sitting right there watching it all.” Enrique tugged Devon closer to the water and stood behind him. “Close your eyes.”
“How am I supposed to see and take in all this if I do that?”
Enrique thought of smacking him. “Just do it, and look with your soul and your heart. Listen to the breath of nature on the wind, then let it speak to you. We use our eyes for everything, so just use the rest of you.” He breathed deeply and waited for Devon to breathe along with him. “Just let all this become part of you again.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Devon whispered. “I used to come here, and I felt all the things you told me about, and then… I drank… always. What if what I felt was really the booze and I’m as empty inside as I feel right now? What if there isn’t any more?” He turned around. “I work, I look at what I’m doing, and nothing moves me.”
“Then what does?” Enrique asked. “You need to find that and use it.” The answer was so simple to him. He always got his inspiration and energy from the lake and the nature and animals around him. “I know that my spirit is tied to this place and the people here. If I left, I would dry up and wither away. Sometimes I go to the ocean so I can be connected with it, and to the mountains just so they can talk to me. Then I come here and let this lake and this view call me home.”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem.”
Enrique shrugged. He wanted to smack Devon on the side of the head, but he didn’t. “Then find what does. Inspiration and the food for your soul isn’t just going to walk up to your door and say hello. You need to search for it. Like a vision quest.” He turned and walked away, leaving Devon standing by the lake, and went inside, where Charles had gotten up and stood at the window. He met Enrique’s gaze and then sighed and sat down.