Ch5: Giving Cheerfully and Accepting Gratefully Part 4

Friday, September 29th 4:45 PM

Arnold finished helping Helga and immediately jumped back on the road. He wanted to get his painting to his studio and get it under better light. He needed another run through his process before he could finish it. Arriving at the building, he pulled around back and looked up at the nondescript building. He grabbed the rectangular package and made towards the door. He grabbed his keys and entered the building. He took the elevator up to his floor, the very top of the six floor building. Approaching the door, he unlocked the pad and slid open the large door.

A large one roomed bohemian styled room, equipped with bathroom, and half kitchen awaited him. The room was decorated almost top to bottom with different art styles. Arnold smiled looking around at the eclectic collection he had put together. There was a comfortable couch over by the wall, a small table in front of that. On the table were piles of books concerning art, color theory, well done lines, perspective and several other categories. Arnold had turned that part of the studio into own personal art education center.

In the middle of the room was his setup. Three easels all with paints, and brushes filling the pockets and compartments. The one in the very middle with a stool close to it, was the current works easel. The other two were for display and working on when looking for inspiration for his current work. Arnold had a well planned out rotation for his pieces. He had started cultivating this process three years ago. He loved the rush of sudden inspiration. Sans that he needed a way to work through his work and produce in a timely fashion. Arnold found a lot of success in this. He was able to translate this into real money as he would sell the art either himself or (mostly) through the man he rented the loft from. He had met Vincent purely by accident four years ago. However when he saw his work Vincent was entranced by the potential of the young artist. He was even able to have some of his work sold, which continued to this day. Vincent owned several lofts. This one he allowed Arnold to rent for his art studio as the property would sit empty otherwise.

Arnold loved being here. Here he was truly home. Here he was allowed to be whom he wanted to be. He was allowed free reign to explore his passions, and his creativity. Arnold felt this was the safest place in the city. His true sanctuary. His appreciation was broken by his buzzing cell phone. He looked and saw his mother's picture come up, "Hey mom. What's up?" "Hey there sweetheart," his mother responded. "I was calling to find out if you were going to be home for dinner," his mother asked. "Well I'm actually…" Arnold paused looking around his studio. "I'm actually over at Gerald's right now," he falsely told his mother. "Well alright, stay out of trouble, please," his mother asked. "Of course, mom. I'll talk to you later," Arnold responded hanging up the phone.

His parents had yet to be informed that their eighteen year old son was renting an apartment loft as an art studio and had been for close to three years now. Arnold could never bring himself to tell anyone he knew about his sacred, personal Shangri-La. He had never even told Gerald about absconding four or five nights a week to his safe place to work until late. Arnold only stayed a few hours at a time when he escaped to his paradise. His worst trait was his inability to break an inspiration streak and would often end up at his studio until 4AM. On those occasions he would be relegated to sneaking back into his room at night. That skylight room was his saving grace.

It hadn't always been. His first habit that developed after getting the opportunity to work uninhibited would be to sneak out after going to bed. Around 11PM every evening he would bid his parents goodnight, his grandparents had long since gone to bed. He would sneak out through the skylight, and quietly make his way down the fire escape. He would stay out until very early in the morning hours. He did this four nights a week for months. Barely sleeping but going through an internal artistic renaissance. He had never been happier.

One day after biding his parents good night. He went up to his room and changed. Grabbing the bag of supplies he had bought earlier. He made his way down the fire escape and walked surreptitiously to his car and drove towards the studio. He parked in the back parking lot seeing cars come and go he grabbed his supplies and made his way to the door looking for his keys. "Hey there short man, where ya headin?" Arnold heard.

The voice shocked him, his stomach filled with dread as he slowly turned his head. His eyes rested at the site of his grandpa Phil leaning against the Packard. "G-G-Grandpa! What are you doing here?" Arnold said eyes as wide as a dear in a headlight. "Well, I followed you. You see when your only grandson, that you've raised since he was born, is sneaking out five nights a week; You get a little curious about where he's going and what he's doing," Phil said, walking forward shaking his head in anger. "I gotta tell ya short man. This is a field trip I thought I'd never have to take with you." His grandpa sounded both disappointed and slightly curious. His disappointed tone was pain in Arnold's stomach. "I'm sorry…" Phil waved his hand cutting off Arnold. "Save it until I fully understand the extent of the duplicity. Keep doing what you were doing, I'll be right behind you." Arnold's grandpa sauntered right up behind his grandson. Looking at his grandpa he felt sick. Arnold had reached Phil's height at that point, so his grandpa was at eye level. "Well, what are you looking at me for? It's cold out here, you were clearly going in here, so let's go,' Arnold only knew this authoritative tone from his grandpa when he was in trouble. He hated hearing it.

Looking at the door he grabbed the key and opened up the door. He led his grandpa into the building and they got into the elevator. It was the longest time he had ever spent in that elevator. The elevator stopped at the loft's floor and Arnold opened the large sliding door. His grandpa right behind him followed him into the studio. At that time Arnold had been studying sculpting and had done a few statues. His best work was his canvas work. The piece was a simple impressionist work of Hillwood Harbor. His grandpa walked around the loft. Looking at the books in the small reading corner. Looking at all the work on the walls. He even looked at the small section where Arnold had several easels setup. It was his finished work section.

His grandpa stopped and looked at one particular piece. Arnold had been studying human form at the time. His goal was to work from memory on a model. He wanted to work to be able to absorb every fine detail of the models body. To most of all capture the look of grace on her face. She had looked beautiful, almost as if she wasn't real. The canvas had walked a line between a real women versus the feeling that it was a made up fantasy. Vincent had seen the work and even brought a couple of artists down to see that particular one. Vincent expected a great payout for the piece. Arnold's grandpa starred at the canvas for a while not saying anything. "Wait a minute, this lady is naked!" He finally said. Then he went back to studying it. "Huh…" he said while he put his hand on his chin.

Phil finally snapped out of it, and turned towards his grandson who had spent the whole time staring at the floor. "So what is this place?" Phil asked. "It's my art studio…." Arnold answered, despondent. "Come again short man, you were mumbling," Phil had walked towards Arnold, crossing his arms. Arnold raised his head and looked into his grandfather's eyes, "it's my art studio. I've been renting this space for a couple years now. When I leave the house.." Phil interrupted, "you mean when you sneak out after everyone's gone to sleep?" Arnold looked at his grandfather. "Yeah, when I sneak out, I come here and work," Arnold said as he lowered his eyes to the floor again. "What do you mean work? You mean make all these paintings and statues?" Phil asked waving his hands around indicating all Arnold's work. "Yeah, I come here to paint, and work on my sculptures and sometimes read about techniques and other artist's work," Arnold said. "And why are those paintings over there setup like they're on display, like the naked lady?" Phil asked. "I set that up so Vincent can see which works are done and ready for sale," Arnold said. "And who exactly is Vincent," Phil asked with a small scowl growing on his face. "He's an art dealer. He owns this place, and he lets me rent the space. He also sells some of my work, and I set that up so if he wanted to see my finished stuff he could just look there and know that those works were free to sell," Arnold answered. His grandfather looked shocked "Sell? He sells your work? How much money are we talking about here boy? You rent this space with this money?" Phil asked, flabbergasted. "I do, and the money is pretty good. By the end of the year I'll have enough to pay for most of school if I stay home and don't live in the dorms," Arnold said.

"Jiminy-Freakin-Christmas boy!" Phil exclaimed "So let me see if I understand this right. You've been renting a space from an art dealer you met for a couple years now it sounds like," He looked towards Arnold for confirmation. Arnold nodded, "and you pay for this space by letting this art dealer sell some of your work, and you've been making a pretty significant amount of money from this for almost two years. What else do you do hear?" Phil asked. Arnold looked up confused, "what? What do you mean?" "What else do you do up here, is this your secret place where you also do drugs, bring strange women, or just party with the art dealer?" Phil had gotten progressively more upset. Arnold looked shocked, "no grandpa, I don't do any drugs, and I never really have. You're the only other person besides myself and Vincent who've ever been in this apartment, and I don't party at all." Phil approached Arnold and put a hand on his shoulder, "Arnold, you can be honest with me….. I need you to be honest with me. Are you living with this Vincent? Are the two of you, together? Please short man you have to tell me if you are. The possibilities here are starting to scare Grandpa." Arnold, completely taken aback, answered, "no grandpa! I'm not with anybody, I'm not gay. Vincent is just someone helping me work through this insane urge I have to make things. There's nothing romantic or sexual going on. I just pay him money to rent this space to get away and work." Phil studied his grandson for a long moment, "I gotta tell you Arnold, I'm not sure whether to believe you or not. You've never lied to me, that I knew of at least. You've always been the good one. The one that was going to go engineering school and build huge things. You were the one kid who never lied to his parents. I don't really know what to believe." Arnold felt his heart breaking inside his chest, "I'm so sorry grandpa…" Arnold began saying as his eyes welled up. "I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry. When the opportunity came I just went for it. I didn't really think about it at all. The choice seemed obvious to me. I got the opportunity to fully explore who I am as an artist. I got to really live as an artist, creating things that impacted people. To do what I've wanted to do since I was twelve. I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry I lied. I'm so sorry." Arnold broke down and put his face in his hands sobbing. Phil hating to see his grandson like that walked up to him and put his arms around the muscular teen. Arnold hugged him back, "Grandpa I never meant to lie to you or grandma," Arnold said loudly sobbing into his grandfather's shoulder. Phil noticed this and asked, "what about your mom and dad?" Phil had gotten to the real issue. Arnold pulled back and met his grandfather's eyes. "I never intended for them to find out. I would go do something great like be a doctor like dad and they would never know about this place. They couldn't possibly understand why I need this place," Arnold said. "They could never understand the feeling I have here," Arnold thought to himself. "Yeah, they expect a great big future for you. I don't think your dad really thinks highly of the art world," Phil said. "He refers to my painting as the little drawings I do between sports. He would kill me if he found out this is wear I spend all my time," Arnold said. Arnold started to feel the dread again as he thought about when grandpa tells his mom and dad. There won't be anymore studio, he'll never be able to feel the freedom to paint. Arnold would go to college and work towards something he didn't want. He knew his parents would never accept his lifestyle as an artist. He never wanted to disappoint his parents. He never wanted to lose them again. Maybe if he stopped coming here and stopped renting out this place tonight he could mitigate the damage. As long as his parents knew he wasn't wasting his time painting anymore and back on track, he might be alright. The idea of giving up his passion felt heavy on his chest, but he couldn't disappoint his parents. "I just can't, some of us aren't strong enough to just do what we want," Arnold thought to himself.

As Arnold reflected on how his world was about to change he looked up and saw his grandpa looking through the cupboards. Opening them up and inspecting inside. Arnold watched him open up all the cabinets only to discover more paint supplies. Then he opened the fridge only to see a couple water bottles. He then walked around to the entire area of the apartment. He studied the couch for a moment, grabbing and checking under the cushions. "What are you looking for?" He asked. Phil walked back up to Arnold and said, "There's no food here!" Arnold didn't know how to respond, "No I have food at home…" Arnold trailed off seeing his grandpa walking around again. "There's also no place to sleep besides the couch that doesn't pull out. There's no bed. There aren't even any blankets in this entire loft. No one seems to live here," Phil said pointing to the couch. "N-No one does Grandpa, I'm only here a couple hours a day and Vincent only come by when he wants to check out my work. Sometimes he brings artists and other dealers by to see it, but that's never longer and an hour," Arnold said.

"O.K. I'm starting to see," Phil said looking around again. "So this really is your studio, you just come here to work on your art away from the world. Am I close?" Phil asked. "Yes, that's all this place is for," Arnold answered. "Well alright short man, let me tell you what I think. I don't fully understand your island paradise idea you have with this place. However having a quiet and private place to do your business, that's something I get. Like my private bathroom in the basement. You clearly only use this place for your art since that's the only thing I see in this apartment." Arnold looked at his grandfather, not knowing where he was going with this. However he seemed less angry. Arnold started to feel a little better. "I think I'm starting to believe you about this whole situation, as bizarre as it sounds. Who hides a secret place to paint from the people he loves? Can't you just tell me you're smoking reefer or something here like a normal kid?" Phil ranted at Arnold. "No, I'm afraid I can't," Arnold answered. Arnold hung his head and looked up to his grandfather during the silence that followed. "I'm so sorry grandpa, I know you're disappointed in me. I just…" Arnold started to speak again, but the pain of disappointing his grandfather was too much for him to bear. Arnold put his face in his hands and started sobbing again. Hurting the first person he had ever looked up to was too much for Arnold. Phil walked over to Arnold and put his arm around him again. "It's alright short man. You made a mistake in handling the telling people part, we all make mistakes," Phil said to Arnold. Arnold looked up at him, his eyes full of tears and said, "I'm so sorry," as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Phil stood there and studied his grandson for a long time. Arnold had no idea what he would say next and the anxiety was starting to show. "I'll make you a deal there short man. You promise to not sneak out of the house as much, and I'll keep this little field trip and everything I saw between us. What do you say?" Arnold was frozen in place. He couldn't imagine a better world where he could keep his art studio and keep his favorite passion alive. His heart started to race as the elation grew in him. He moved towards Phil and grabbed up his significantly thinner grandpa in a hug, to which Phil let out a audible "ooof." "Thank you so much grandpa! I'm so sorry I lied, I'll never do it again. Thank you!" Arnold said, on the verge of tears again. "That's alright there short man, I'll keep your secret safe," Phil said as he hugged his grandson back. "I gotta tell you there short man, some of this is really good work. I had no idea you had gotten this good. This one here… It's something else," He was staring at the nude Arnold had done. Arnold began laughing wiping his eyes again, "you can take it if you want grandpa." "What? And have Pookie catch me looking at this one day? No way, not setting myself up for that," Phil responded.

"Come on short man, let's head home," Phil said extending his arm. "O.K. grandpa," Arnold responded following his grandfather to the elevator. Arnold locked up the apartment and got down to the parking lot. "Hold on there Arnold," Phil said while Arnold was opening his car door. "I'll keep your secret for you, but your secret paradise situation is going to come to an end soon. Your parents are going to find out one way or another. You'll have to deal with your future and how this place fits in that future," Phil said to Arnold. "I know grandpa. I just want a little more time in this little world before I stop and have to go be an archaeologist or whatever my parents think would be best," Arnold said, his smile dissipating. His grandfather looked at him with a pained expression. "What is it that you want to do with your life there, short man?" Phil asked him. "I…. I don't know," Arnold responded. "Well That might be something you want to figure out. You can pretend that you'll go to college and be a doctor or whatever and never look back at this place. I can see it in your eyes though. You love what you do here. So you may want to think on that," Phil said. "I'll see you at home, no more sneaking out at such a late hour please. I need sleep and can't watch you all the time. I'm an old man!" Phil yelled to him from his car. They both smiled at each other and Phil got in his car and started to drive off. Arnold looked up at the sky for a moment. "I have no idea what I want," he lamented to himself.

Arnold pulled himself out of his memory, when he turned the lights on. He had setup his main easel under the best lighting he could. He grabbed his package and unwrapped his mountain landscape and set it on the easel. He backed away from it a few feet and put his hand up to his chin. He studied his work for a long time. He contemplated where it was in his process. He was at the very end. At this stage he could completely ruin the work by over correcting it.

Sometimes it helped him to lay on the floor and think. He looked up at the ceiling seeing the canvas in his minds eye. Studying every detail that he had studied a thousand times before. He was thinking of the fur patterns on the large fantasy animals. He wondered if they looked too much like each other. Maybe some are way older and some are younger. Maybe some have little parts of white fur and that's how you tell the ages. Arnold snapped up immediately. He ran and grabbed his brush and started working on the closest one in the frame, detailing small brush strokes of white along the tips of the fur.

Arnold worked on the fur for what seemed like hours. He finished his last stroke and moved away from the picture, studying the canvas for a long time. "It's perfect…" He said smiling. "It's done, I finished it," Arnold said aloud to himself. "I can't believe it, it's really done. Maybe I could just…No, it's done," Arnold repeated. He grabbed the painting and admired his work. He grabbed his black pen and signed the bottom right corner of the canvas. He stepped back again and looked at his finished work. He couldn't believe it. He grabbed the canvas and put it on one of the empty easels in his finished work section.

He grabbed one of the small note cards he used to name the paintings. He thought for a moment and put down "Wild Fields" he thought that sounded pretty good. He looked back again at it and smiled. He felt his phone buzz and he looked down, there was a message from Helga. Arnold's smile grew wider. I need to go out, I have an idea but I'm not going to tell you what it is. Up to you, indulge in a little mystery or stay boring? Your choice. Arnold read the message again. "I think if she's there, I'll always be O.K. exploring a mystery." He thought to himself. He took a second wondering if he should let her know that. If you'll be there then I'll be there in 10 for the mystery.