Boardwalk | Teen Ink

Boardwalk

June 1, 2016
By H.Weisensel BRONZE, Mount Horeb, Wisconsin
H.Weisensel BRONZE, Mount Horeb, Wisconsin
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I walk into my studio and can immediately smell the paint fumes that have been shut inside all night. I walk across the dark cherrywood floor, to the big window that covers the entire back wall. I pull the curtains aside and a let the sunlight stream in. It bounces off the easels and cans of paint that are sitting on the tarp that is placed on the ground. I open the windows by pushing the bottoms of them out away from me. The fresh sea breeze rushes in, and soon the smell of paint is gone.

I go over to my wall full of brushes,I take the pointed round and the angled brushes. I walk in the back to the windows and squat to look at the paint cans that are under the window. I decide  to choose the red 2 and the green 4. I grab my favorite easel, the wood one that I bought at the market I used to go to with my mother. I set it up so the I will be able to face the window while I paint.
I open the door that leads into my favorite spot in my studio-- the canvas closet. The wall have tons of shelves on them, and they are filled with different sizes and shapes of white canvas. I walk all the way to the back of what was used as a closet when this was my appartment. I take the 16x20 canvas and close the door on my way out of the canvas closet.
I set the canvas on the easel and pour some paint out and dip the angled brush into the green paint and paint a long green line, I blod it and add a leaf. I dip my brush into the red to go to the top of the green line. As my brush makes a shape of rose, and I re-dip my brush to get more red paint, I hear a loud commotion coming from upstairs.
I set my brush and paint down and slid my Birkenstocks on and head up the metal stairs. As I approach the green door of the apartment above my studio, I hear glass shatter. I knock on the door not knowing what I was going to say, the door opens and I see a flash of a yellow dress disappear behind the door. To my surprise though a man answers the door. “Hello?”
“Hi, my name is Amy, I live downstairs.”
“Oh, hey, I’m James”
“Did you just move in?”
“Yeah we moved in two weeks ago.We met everyone in the building last week and I don’t remember seeing yo-”
“I was in America, visiting my parents.”
“Oh, how long have you lived in Sydney?”
“I have lived in Sydney for six months, but I went to college in northern Australia” There is an awkward pause and silence fills the space.
“Well, since I’m new here maybe you could show me around the city sometime?”
“Yeah, we could-”
“Say tonight, I could stop by your place around eight tonight?”
“Yeah, sure, that works for me.”
“See you later” James closes his door before I can tell him bye. I back away from the green door and head downstairs until I see my red door. Every door in this building has a different color to it, so if I ever need inspiration for colors to use I just walk around the building until I find a color I want to use.
I open my door and walk into the sunlight. The room feels so much warmer now that there is sunlight in here. I remember when I bought this place, I had just graduated college and wanted to have a place of my own. I walk into this apartment and beside that it was much larger than all the other apartments I had seen, the sunlight was by far the best. I bought it and had moved everything in within a month. When I began painting, I kept taking up more, and more space until finally I bought another apartment uptown. That apartment is crap compared to this one.
I walk over to my started painting and pick up where is left off. I dip my angled brush into the red paint and start to create the petals and texture of the flower. As I paint I can’t help but think of James. The structure of the flower reminds me of his strong jaw and muscular arms. The top of the petals remind me of his hair, black and just long enough that it hasn’t started to go past his ears yet. I add a blue sky behind it just like his light blue eyes sit behind his thick, black frame glasses.
Once I have signed my name at the bottom of the canvas, to signify that I’m done, I check my phone and see that it’s seven-thirty. I walk into the only bedroom in this appartment and the only room that doesn't have any painting supplies in it. I glance at myself in the mirror to see if I need to shower before my night out with James. My skinny jeans have paint splattered everywhere, my gray V-neck shirt has paint on the sleeves and by the waist, then my face has two red paint splashes , and my dirty blond hair has streaks of green it. This means showering. Great, if I wasn’t going to be late before I will be now.
I take the fastest shower of my life and quickly dry off. I go to over to the limited closet, I take out the only nice clothes in there: a navy blue formal dress and a green lacy sundress. I choose the sundress because after all the sun it still out. I comb my wet hair and blow dry almost dry, the beauty of having thick hair. I put on my basic makeup of eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. Then spray on perfume and try to find shoes to wear beside the Birkenstocks I wore over here.
I hear someone knock at the door as I’m slipping into ankle high brown boots. “It’s open!”  I shout from the bedroom. I hear the door open and someone walk in. I hear them knock into something and knock brushes to the ground, I guess I should have cleaned up the pace before having him come over.
“Amy?” James shouts through the studio.
“Yeah, I’m over here,” I glance in the mirror before stepping out into the main part of the apartment. He is wearing dark wash jeans and a red shirt, he is carrying a leather jacket in his arms. He sees me step out of the room and he looks me up and down and smiles. I laugh and give him a twirl. He laughs in response.
“You look great! Ready to go?”
“Yeah, you look great too.” We walk out the door and I close it behind me. We walk down the metal stairs with my heels clicking along the way. Once we finally hit the sidewalk, I remember I don’t have my purse only my phone. “Crap. I forgot my purse in my apartment. I will be right back.” I turn around and pull open the door, but James grabs my arm to stop me
“No need, tonight is on me. Think of it as a “sorry for all the noise today” dinner” He gives me a smile, I let go of the door and join him on the sidewalk. “So where are we going for this dinner?”
“Well if you're paying,” I joke
“Hey be nice now.”
“You’ll find out once we get there. Turn left at the corner.” I point to the right and we start our walk. The sun is starting to set and the sky is turning purple and pink. I look up as the spring breeze blows my hair. We walk by the pier and the water is reflecting the sunset. “Take a left”
“Onto the dock?” He gives me a look, but follows my directions anyway. We walk on the dock until we come across a boat named “La Luna”. I stop.
“We are here. This is the best restaurant around our apartment.” We climb aboard and head up the stairs to the second deck. We stand behind another couple as they wait to be seated. Once it’s our turn the hostess walks us to the back of the deck and seats us a two person booths. We sit next to the rail and look at the water reflecting the sunset as the waiter hands us menus and tells us the specials. “We will take the Port wine please,” The waiter sets down some wine glasses and returns with the wine. He gives us a couple of minutes to look over the menu. I take a deep breath. “I have to bring my canvas out here sometime.”
“Yeah it is beautiful out on the water.” When the waiter comes back James and I order the same soup and it is served in a matter of minutes. “Wow, they are fast here.” He takes a taste of his soup. “But it is delicious!”
“Yeah, like I said the best place around.”
“So are you a painter? I saw the painting of the rose in your apartment.”
“No I’m actually a therapist. I live uptown.”
“Oh so the apartment I saw is just your studio with a bedroom?”
“Yes, I used to live there but my painting supplies became too much to handle,” He snickers when I tell him this. “What it’s true!”
“Yeah okay. Why do you paint.”
“It started in college. I found out that I was adopted when my birth parents contacted me and told me so. I mean it made sense, I never felt like I belonged in that family. Painting was just a way for me to express myself without hurting my parents feelings.” We both drink our wine and look at each other. “So enough about me, what do you do.”
“Well I’m,” James clears his throat “I’m a lawyer by day.”
“And by night?”
“I’m a dad” He looks down at his hands as he tells me this. I just look at him and try to take this in.
“So does your child have a mother?” After I ask this I realize that this was a stupid question to ask, of course the child has a mother. I instantly look at his left hand and notice the black band on his finger. Oh great. I’m on a date with a married dad. I take a deep breath and try to silence my thoughts as he answers my question.
“Yes. Her name was Cassie. She died last fall from cancer. My daughter, Jane, and I moved here to get a fresh start.” There is a long awkward pause before anything is said. “Are you upset that I didn’t tell you earlier?”
“No, it’s just I have never been on a date with a dad before.” I continue to duel on that thought. I have never dated father before. What would happen if we were to get married, would I be prepared to be a mother as soon as I say I do? Would his daughter hate me for replacing her mother? I’ve always wanted kids but not for a couple more years. I feel sick to my stomach. James’ voice brings me out of my mini panic attack.  
“Yeah, you're my first date as a single dad.” He said date so casually. I guess he thought of this as a date too.
“Well I hope one day I get to meet Jane, she must be one lucky girl to have you as her dad.” I say this because I no longer know what to say. I’m usually a very sociable person during dates but tonight is different. When the waiter comes to give us the bill, James takes it without hesitation. I wanted to offer, especially now that I know that he is a single dad, but my purse is in my apartment. After paying, we head back to our apartment building. When we reach the glass front door, James holds it open for me to walk through. We nod to each other in thanks. We haven’t said anything on the walk home.
When we reach my floor, James walks me to my red door. I tell him goodnight and step back to into my door to lean on. But instead of lean against it, I fall backwards on my studio's floor. James rushes in to help me up. I rub my head and look at the door to see what is wrong with the door. I see that the hinge is broken, I turn around to tell James my discovery when I see what he is looking at -- my studio. It’s a mess. Almost every paint can is tipped over and the brushes are all over the floor. The big window was a lot of writing all over with different colored paint. I walk forward, having my boots step in the spilled paint.
The canvas room door is wide open and I see that the racks are empty. The canvases are on the ground, piled on top of each other. Many of them have holes in them and have paint all over them. I exit the room and head into the bedroom. The bed has been srtipped of its sheets, the dresser is knocked over and the mirror has shardered. The clothes in the closet are gone and the bathroom as nothing it it but smashed tiles and mirrors.
I return to the main part of what used to be my beautiful studio. Jame is still looking at all the damage. He turns to face me, I’m so heartbroken that I have nothing to do but cry. James comes over to me and gives me hug. I have nothing left here. “I’m going to go back to my apartment uptown for the night. Have you seen my purse it has my key for that aparment in it?”
“No haven’t seen it. I think it was probably stolen during the break-in.”
“I have nowhere to stay then.” I can’t help but cry even harder. I lean my face into James’ shoulder, half because I’m tired and half because I don’t want him to see me like this.
“We have an extra room in our apartment. You can stay in there until you can find other arrangements.”
“Really? That would be nice. But what about meeting your daughter?”
“This is different. We are helping out a neighbor, not deciding if you are fit to be Jane’s mom.” James jokes as he pulls me back and brushes the tears out of my face.”Come on, you can wear one of my shirts for pajamas.”  We walk out of my ruined studio and upstairs to James apartment. He unlock the front door, he pays the babysitter, and closes the door behind her. Before he takes me to my room, he stops by Jane’s room, he goes in and rubs her shoulder so she will wake up. She slowly sits up and rubs her eyes. Her long blond hair is all tangled up and her green eyes are squinting at the bright light. “Hey Janie, I’m home,” she just gives a half smile. “I just wanted to let you know that we have someone joining us in the morning for breakfast. She is one of our neighbors and wants to get to know us better is that okay?”
“Yes Daddy,” she answers in the softest of voices. I lean in to hear better, I can tell that she can’t be older than 7 years old. James tucks her back in and kisses her head goodnight. As he walks out of the room he shuts the light and her door.
We walk across the living room to the third bedroom and he open the door and turns on the light. When I walk in, I don’t even look around I just climb into the gray sheets and close my eyes, I’m exhausted from all the events of the night. “Goodnight Amy.” James kisses my head before shutting of the light and closing the door. Before I fall asleep, I notice that there are roses in my room. I start crying again, thinking about how great this day started and how the painting of the rose is probably destroyed, just like my date with the man it reminded me of.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.