The Painting

#27 Motivation - Spreagadh

The air was ten degrees colder as we descended down the hill and back into town. The sun had all but vanished behind the advancing clouds and the shadows from shop overhangs did nothing but make the chilling wind harsher. Crossing my arms tightly around my chest I held Mo Soileireacht to my heart, my fingers clinging to the rough canvas.

I stayed a few steps ahead of Lyle. After my outburst toward her I didn't – and maybe couldn't – look her in the eye. I knew she noticed the way I reacted and it made me uneasy she hadn't addressed it. It hung over me like my own personal dark cloud, and thickened my thoughts that I may have to leave her. She'd gotten so close to my mother's things, and perhaps too close to me. Maybe it was my fault, I'd been enjoying myself far more than I should've. Enjoy isn't the right word – at least not as a whole – I was enjoying the feeling of hope. It was hope that drove me to meet Monroe under the pretense of selling him my mother's painting, and as much as I regretted to admit it Lyle played a significant part in supporting my hope.

Would I be able to support it single handedly?

The thought of meeting Monroe instantly made my pulse quicken as my feet did the same. The dark cloud that followed me for the past three blocks dissipated as my mind shifted to imagine what I might learn by this time tomorrow. That was what truly mattered.

For the first time in my life I was coming away from Unit #16 with a feeling other than confusion, self pity, or guilt. A sort of languid happiness poured over me. Today was different, completely different I was on an adventure. All of my life when I launched myself at my mother's mystery it was like walking through a dark tunnel without a flashlight or any idea how long the path extended. Now with the canvas burning holes in my palms I had been handed a light, one that allowed me to see a few inches ahead of me. I was walking in unknown territory, but with every step I was gaining ground.

"Jesus May slow down!" Lyle called from behind me.

I stopped abruptly not realizing I'd took off into a light jog.

"Trying to get rid of me already?" Lyle grinned catching up to stand beside me.

I laughed nervously feeling guilty for my train of thought before. Was it inevitable that I would have to leave her to complete my adventure solo?

"That obvious?" I gave her a tight smile.

We began walking again and I stared at my feet in a conscious effort to keep my pace at a normal speed. A few blocks passed in silence, less comfortable than usual.

I shifted my eyes to my right to sneak a glance at her, hoping – naively- that I could discern what she was thinking. She stared straight ahead, her posture poising her jawline parallel to the ground. Clearly she was thinking, but what about? What she'd seen in Unit #16?

I shook my head, no she couldn't have gathered much from one box. They were just old jackets, and why wouldn't she assume they were Grace's, or another employees.

From the other side of the street just beyond Lyle a flash of color caught my eye. A small café bearing a neon 'open' sign in the midst of window drawings of decorative sandwiches and pastries. My stomach gurgled in response as my eyes took in the mouth watering illustrations.

I'd worked up a sweat walking up and down the hill and hadn't eaten since that mornings fruit bowl.

"Hungry?" Lyle observed keeping her eyes trained on the darkening sky line before us.

"We should eat before we get back on the train."

"Wouldn't we miss it?"

"No," I glanced at the base of the hill where the one room station sat nestled in the curve of the land as it became flat again. "There's a later train that we could catch, plus we aren't making the exchange until tomorrow afternoon." My fingers ran over the smooth surface of Mo Soileireacht's frame as Lyle thought over my proposition. Truthfully, a fresh sandwich or even a salad sounded damn good right now, but the section of my brain not controlled by my aching stomach saw this as an opportunity to have some time to think about my next move before the meeting with Monroe.