Blank Canvas

Chapter Fourteen

Summary: Talia accompanied Jay on an spontaneous art adventure around the city. It was exciting and scary but ultimately, cathartic.

I sat inside the rail transit with an old lady holding a crossword puzzle on my right and a woman reading a worn book on my left. It was not rush hour so there were many empty seats left.

I liked to commute. It was not as convenient or as cozy as having your own car but I enjoyed the many layers of public transportation such as the fluid movements of passengers who came and went like motion-induced shadowy traces. I craved the distance and the way that the crackly voice from the speakers would announce that we were close to our destination. One more stop, two more stops. Home loomed ahead like a light at the end of a tunnel. Also, a long commute meant one important thing, an opportunity to observe. It was a time to keep an eye on people and on the urban scenery. The people were riveting. They were like kaleidoscopes. Each time you twist the hollow tube, a new image appeared. Each stop that the transit made, new faces came in. The new faces added a new, complex layer to the landscape that you are already looking at.

As I was about to leave the station, I spotted Jay. We were on the same trip. My eyes traveled to the black and white clock on the cement wall and saw that it was only an hour past noon. I have not seen him in a week. After my visceral show of emotion at the treehouse, I withdrew in my own shell. He allowed me to. He did not badger me but he did send one message the morning after, asking me if I needed anything. I replied and said that I was okay.

Last weekend, I spent an entire day with Avis and Valerie. We helped build houses made of adobe bricks. They were temporary dwellings for a few homeless families whose houses were recently ravaged by a fire. It was our student organization's annual volunteer work. I wanted to invite Jay. I knew he would get a kick out of it. He would probably build his own version of a mud house. He would probably make land art.

But I could not face him. I was ashamed of what he saw. I have never been that erratic in his presence.

"Jay." I called out to him as a throng of impatient passengers surrounded us.

Jay jostled his way out of the crowd and ushered me away. We stood a few feet away from the stairs. "What's this, Talia? Are you following me or something?" He had an errant grin on his face.

"You wish. I'm on my way home. Everyone's going to the pep rally but I bailed." The university's student population was pumped up for the cheer dance competition next month. It was not that I was not excited but I decided to run a few errands. First, I went to my favorite stores to check if they have new old postcards and art prints that I could use for post-crossing. Then, I went to the post office because I dropped off some mail and bought a few sets of extra stamps.

"I know what you mean," Jay agreed. "That's the exact scenario at my school." His eyes darted around the station, throwing a glance back and forth the premises. I spied something in his hand. When his attention was diverted by a scuffle between a guitar-playing guy and the station guard, I gently pried the object in his fingers. I snatched it, period. Jay did not seem to mind anyway.

"What is this?"

He smiled at me. "It's a device for reverse street art," he explained. "Add a bit of soapy water and you can write or draw on dirty walls like that one on the side of the exit stairs. It's called a Grime Writer."

"A Grime Writer?" I peered at the thing on my hand. It resembled a fat black marker with a similar soft white tip. "Where's your soapy water, genius? Are you going to conjure a bucket from out of the blue?"

"No. I have a flask of soapy water hidden in my backpack. I'm just waiting for the right time to do my art." His posture was a mixture of relaxed and agitated. He shifted from one to the other in a matter of a few seconds.