Chapter 5

Quentin had come to a cold realization about t Adam and Carolyn. Had he notT done the right thing returning Adam to her. In the glow of his new found maturity, and his shame at his past actions, he had overlooked Carolyn's flaws and made excuses for her.

It had been his fault that she treated him with such disdain, or that their marriage was fully one of convenience...

But he had seen her turn the same mood to Adam, who needed quite a bit of nurturing, not glacial criticism.

That Carolyn had punished Adam for a transgression that he had not committed, and not even bothered to explain to him...

There had been a lot wrong with the way Carolyn had been raised. Megan had done some fixing, but there was a limit to what a vampire compulsion could do against habits learned at a mother's knee.

Now, if David was reenacting Roger's life, there had to be a way to stop Carolyn from reenacting Liz'. Carolyn might decide to take a poker to Adam's head, and this time succeed in killing him, and end up burying the corpse in the basement, and keeping watch over it.

And then raising Edmund and Eliot by herself. Another screwed up Collins generation...

Quentin felt that Adam was his brother now. His younger, reckless brother. He had failed Carl, but he would not fail Adam.

Carolyn was cold towards him. His confession that he had the one to set Megan on her still rattled. But the cold daggers of her eyes no longer hurt him. This time he was in the right, and she in the wrong. None of her veiled barbs could change that.

He saw Eliot, and had to listen to Carolyn's diatribe about untrustworthy men. Surely David deserved her criticism. But Quentin knew that he was included in it, same as Adam. Edmund was at school, and Roger had gone to his therapist appointment. He was glad of that. Talking to Roger might make for unpleasant moments.

"What about Adam"?" he finally asked.

"He's the same. Painting." there was hurt in her voice. Evidently she had tried for a reconciliation and had been rebuffed. Well, what did she expect? "Paints mermaids now... At least it is no more those abstract paintings that you are not sure which side is up. He keeps calling them studies in blue and green, but it is all mermaids. The romance of the sea,, he calls it sometimes."

"It is good that now he paints. For a while he was afraid that he had lost his talent, but it is back."

"Yes. And he paints, and does not care for anything else."

Yes, he does not care for you anymore. Ah, cousin, what did you expect? That you could treat him like dirt and expect him to come wagging his tail when you smiled at him again?

Would the Collinses ever stop screwing up their lives?

He excused himself and went up to Adam's studio, to see those new paintings.

It was the mermaid period all right. Nothing but mermaids from every possible angle. On top of the waves, gliding along the water, playing hide and seek among the seaweeds of the bottom. Remarkable workings of light and colors. And the mermaids were not the cutesy creatures that you might expect in fantasy paintings. They were real. Alien, maybe. Mysterious maybe. But solid. Living creatures.

The color gradation was superb, and he could see how the tan and rosy hues of the skin contrasted and complemented the blues of the surroundings and the silver of the tail. And the silver reflected the light brown of the kelp or the deeper purple of deeper algae.

The workmanship was impeccable. A radical departure from the work that Adam used to do, the one that he knew was becoming stale, a paint-by-the numbers kind of painting. At least in this he was doing well...

"You like it?'" Adam asked him.

Quentin nodded. It was the best work that Adam had done in a long time. Yet something in them made him feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was the solidity of the mermaid... Could it be...? Collinsport had seen so much already...

There was more to the painting that met the eye. Not just technical skill... Or maybe it was Adam's attitude. Defiant and cagey at the same time. Proud of his painting, and yet wishing to hide something about it.

"It is very good."

"I thought you liked it. After all, she is your type."

"And what would be my type?"

"Female. All women are your type, Quentin." Adam laughed easily. "Isn't that true?"

Quentin laughed, too. Yes, it was sadly true.."

It was just banter, but Quentin suspected that there was more to it, as if Adam was hoping to distract his attention from the painting. He wondered how much it had to do with he disappointment of his marriage to Carolyn.

"What about this one?" Quentin indicated a rough sketch that laid on the easel, still waiting for the paint. "It seems like somewhere in New Mexico, All the tall boulders."

"It is the bottom of the sea. There are quite a number of boulders there, too."

"Is there going to be another mermaid here?"

"There are always mermaids."

"Well, this will be the mermaid's Stonehenge, then. "

"Maybe they are left from some volcanic eruption."

"When will it be finished?"

"Not for a while. Painting takes time."

"Not the way the guy on TV does it. He finishes a painting in half an hour."

"If you do not care for detail and color gradations and proper contrasts, yes."

Adam would say no more about it, and Quentin moved to other paintings. Another mermaid, but here she filled the whole canvas, staring straight at them, with half-closed eyes and mouth.

"She looks like a 'Playboy' centerfold" Quentin said.

It was a bad choice of words. "She's not!" Adam said angrily. "It has nothing to do with that kind of trash! This is a whole different way of looking at a woman's body."

"Forgive me. I do have a one-track mind."

At least he had never been able to tell why a naked woman in a magazine was pornography and naked woman in a museum painting was "culture". Maybe one day he'd understand it.

He looked again at the mermaid and noticed how her nipples seemed to reflect the silvery hue of her tail, and how the skin subtly changed to scales. It had been lovingly painted. And it was hard to believe that the model lived only in Adam's imagination.

Phillip was well enough to go back to work at Collinwood. He kept away from Adam, even though he knew that he had no rational reason to dislike him. And yet something in him bristled, some old fear that he though dead.

It was the paintings, he thought. Those paintings of the bottom of the sea, of a human being that was a fish... Adam made it look romantic and safe, and he knew that it was not so. Yes, the bottom of the sea could be pretty for divers who stayed only for a few minutes, and coral and anemones could be admired for their colors. But coral could cut you, and you'd bleed attracting sharks... And anemones were predators...

There was nothing in the sea that did not prey on anything else.

It was not pretty. Not the way Adam wanted it to be.

And those paintings were now in Collinwood. Under the same roof of where he worked...

Urien was not very sure that it was the right thing to do. He should talk to Barnabas about it. But Barnabas was too unearthly now for that kind of thing.

He knew that he was ready to go to college. He wanted to go. But he needed Barnabas' approval. Or Geroge pushing for him.

There was no reason not to go to George, except that it made him feel that he was going behind Barnabas' back.

"You wanted to see me kid?" George asked him.

"Yes. I need your help. I would go to Barnabas but..."

"But Barnabas is too busy contemplating the mystery of God's designs for him."

"I it is difficult for me to talk to you."

"Well, our relationship was not what it should be. But it is mending. What is it?"

"I want to go to college." Urien blurted out.

"College?"

"It is about time I went. I know what the problem is. You don't trust me to be all alone. But I could live in a dorm. Or I could live with David, and you'd have him check on me."

"Have you talked with David?"

"No... no but..."

"But David owes us more than one favor. Yes, it would be a good idea. I will talk Barnabas into it.. If he can listen to anything that is nor a sermon nor church music..."