Luis

Turning the page of an oversized art book, I gaze at the colorful mural from one of the pages of Art in the Streets. It was a beautiful mural, but it wasn’t the kind of inspiration I wanted for the new city hall mural. Mayor Thornberg explained what she envisioned, yet I was having trouble conceptualizing it.

The bell above the library door tinkles and Sam enters with his low slung backpack. He scans the room and his eyes land on mines. He shuffles over with a smile.

“Hi, Luis,” Sam says.

“Hey, man, how’s it going?” I ask him.

His smile fades.

“Mr. Spalding wants to meet with my mom.”

“Oh, boy. Is it because of your homework?”

I remember Sam telling me that he’s been having trouble with his homework. Just last week, I helped him with some math he had. Apparently, Mayor Thornberg wasn’t the type of mom who spends time with their own children, but don’t mind spending time with adults. It reminds me of my father who was there in my life physically but not emotionally.

“Yeah, it’s about homework,” Sam says and slumps over the wooden table.

“Your mom might not even show up. It’s one thing to make an appointment and another to actually show up.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Sam pulls out a couple of books from his backpack and he dashes to the circulation counter. He gives them to Jesse who sits at the counter. Jesse glances up at me and I avert my eyes. I always get so shy when they look at me. I’ve managed to talk to Jesse before about art books, yet they’re brief. I can’t seem to last long in a conversation with them without needing to bolt.

Sam comes back to the table and I avoid looking at the counter. I stare at Sam concentrating on not locking eyes with Jesse again.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks and for a moment I thought he was asking about me spazzing out over Jesse.

“I, uh, have a mural project for your mom. I’m trying to get some inspiration.”

“Oh. Your murals are so cool. I love the one with the mermaid at the entrance to the cove.”

“That’s one of my favorites.”

“Shouldn’t they all be? They’re all so good.”

“Thanks. But sometimes things that you work on aren’t necessarily all good. I mean, they’re good but sometimes you think about how you could have made it better.” I say, over explaining.

“Oh, like my homework.”

Damn, now I feel bad. I know that’s not entirely Sam’s fault.

“Well, in this circumstance you needed help. You’re still learning about math. Your mom should have been there to help.”

I feel the added anger from my childhood life with my father. I used to live with him before I moved to Spellbound Cove. My pregnant mother divorced him and moved to Spellbound Cove, which I didn’t know at that time that she had magic and so did I. She never thought to bring me with her and I resented her for it. I felt so alone with my father, he never understood me. It got worse when I became an adult because I couldn’t tell him that I was gay.

Blinking away the memory, I turn the page to the book. Splotches of paint spill out and land on the table. I jump out of my seat barely avoiding it falling on my pants. Sam is giggling, some of the paint had landed on his sleeves. Roland comes by and whistles.

“Oh man, I hope that comes off. Here I’ll grab something to wipe it.” He says and he goes back behind the circulation counter.

Jesse is coming over with a roll of paper towels. I know they won’t have much success wiping with those flimsy sheets, but they mean well. I close the book and place it gently on the table as if it’s going to explode.

“Hi, Luis. Had yourself an accident?” Jesse says and he immediately cringes.

I giggle uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry. That didn’t come out right,” Jesse says as he yanks sheet after sheet of paper towels.

Sam is laughing loudly.

“It’s alright. I know what you meant,” I say as I point at the roll. Jesse hands it to me and I take a couple.

The paint starts to smear and it a stain of color.

“Oh, boy,” Jesse says and a deep frown sets on his face, which makes him look cute.

I drop my gaze to Sam who is watching the colorful table. Roland appears.

“What have you all done? Is this arts and crafts time?” He says and he wipes with a damp cloth. Most of the paint picks up.

“Thank you, Roland,” Jesse says as he smiles at me.

I smile and I manage to hold his gaze. Roland continues to wipe.

“Mr. Jesse when is the next arts and crafts?” Sam asks.

“It’s this Saturday. Are you planning on coming?”

“Yeah, maybe. Depends on if I get murdered.”

“Murdered?” Jesse says.

“My teacher wants to see my mom.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I can try to help you with your homework again,” I say.

“Really? Thanks, Luis.”

Jesse smiles broadly at me and I can’t help but feel inflated. Roland stops wiping. The table is almost back to normal, except for a some smudges.

“It’s not going to be perfect, but it’ll do.” He says and takes the clothe back.

“I guess this table is going to be forever known as Luis’ table,” Jesse says as he wipes his hand over it. “Thanks for helping.” He adds and he takes the role of paper towels with him back to the desk.

“Are you going to check that out?” Sam asks as he points at the book.

“Probably not.”

We giggle.

After a couple of hours spent helping Sam with his homework, I take a couple of books to the counter. Jesse is not there to check out my books, but Hal had taken his place. Placing the tote on my shoulder I spy Jesse at the bulletin board, with a wave of his hand, the flyers were rearranged, the thumbtacks slipping in place to secure the pages.

“Thanks for earlier. With the spill,” I find that my tongue is heavy and I’m failing to use words properly.

“Oh, no worries,” Jesse says as he turns to me.

Their long sleeve top is a deep crimson red that brings out his hazel eyes and dark hair. It suits them. I have nothing to say and I wave. As I’m about to pushing the door, Jesse speaks.

“Luis, I was thinking that maybe, since you are an exceptional artist.”

My chest puffs out slightly.

“You can teach a class here at the library?”

“Really?” I ask

“Yes, Haley and I were talking about new programs to introduce and had thought about doing like an art class. I had thought of you.”

My face grows hot.

“I would be honored, I mean, I would be interested in teaching,” I say, having a strong desire to place my tote bag in front of my face.

“That’s great! Maybe the three of us can meet sometime next week to talk about it?”

The due date for the mural sketch was next week and all I had was a blank drawing board to show for it. Somehow it’s going to have to work out.

“Yes, of course.”

“How about next Wednesday at 2?” Jesse’s says.

“That works.”

Maybe if I jump on it as soon as I get back to the apartment most of the sketch will be done by Wednesday and all I have to do is the finishing touches on it on Thursday.

“I’ll see you next week then,” Jesse says and he flashes a smile.

“Of course,” I say and I trip over the rug on my way out the door.

Not looking back, I grip my tote back hoping they hadn’t noticed. Instead of walking back to my empty apartment, I head to the entrance to the beach. The sun was setting along the horizon, casting shades of pink, orange, and yellow. A beautiful watercolor display of nature. Sand crunches underfoot as I find the right spot to stand.

Noticing color was something I picked up at a young age. When I got my first set of Crayola crayons they were my prized possession. I had arranged them into groups of reds, blues, greens, purples, and yellows. Eventually, I got a bigger set for my birthday from my mother who by then was living somewhere else with my younger sister, Lusilla. I never got to know her, even though I wrote to her.

I regret not bringing my travel drawing pencils. I would have captured this image and saved it as inspiration. Fading colors dull and the waves lap softly. Leaving the beach, I decide to stop at The Pizza Spot for some dinner.