Marble
(Justin POV)
I remember this quiz Daphne sent me a couple of years ago. It was one of
those 'who are you' things with a bunch of random questions that are supposed
to help your friends learn more about you. I usually hated those things but
Daph got all offended if I didn't answer.
I don't remember much about it, mostly just that it was lame - but there
was one question I liked. "If you were a piece of art, what kind would you
be?"
That got me. I thought about that one for *days*. I remember ruling out charcoal,
pencil, and pen and ink right away; there had to be color. I liked the idea
of pastels - something so intimate on canvas, or maybe watercolors - gentle
and soft with no harsh lines. But oils - the vivid bold colors, the
strength...
I drove Daph crazy, debating the merits of one option or the other, slowly
eliminating choices only to change my mind again.
When she finally had enough, she leaned over and smacked me on the arm and
called me a jerk for missing the obvious.
"And what exactly is so obvious, Miss Artiste?" I demanded, rubbing my arm
and trying to look all wounded and picked on. "Duh.
Like you're all over yourself about oil this, and watercolor that, but you're
missing the big picture." She giggled at her own pun and I made a face at
her. She leaned over and knocked on my head. "Hello, aren't you forgetting
like, that whole two-dimensional thing?"
Oh, yeah.
Okay, so I felt like a jerk for a few seconds, but really art never felt
two-dimensional to me. But... my brain just about exploded with new options,
memories of sculptures I'd seen, possibilities to envision. Oh this was
good.
Steel and wood, copper, clay, even...
I just about knocked Daph over when I jumped off the bed and went to my bookcase,
selecting my favorite art book and flipped through the glossy pages to...
there!
Smiling, I dropped the book into Daphne's lap. "That's my answer."
She just shook her head and smiled back at me, looking as if she'd already
known what my choice would be. She didn't say a word, just leafed through
the book until she found her counter-argument. "That's what happens to marble,
Jus. You sure you'd want that?" She tilted the book up to reveal a two-page
spread of marble statues all missing heads or limbs or both. The saddest
were those that were badly eroded, features worn away by water and time,
their beauty muted but not gone.
I reached for the small paperweight on my nightstand. It was reassuringly
heavy, a smooth marble sphere, gleaming off-white with irregular flecks and
lines of color. My grandfather had given it to my father years ago. I'd wandered
off with it so often that Dad finally gave it to me.
Of all the things to save...
I look over at "my" nightstand, cluttered with my crap, as Brian so eloquently
describes it. He usually smiles when he says it though, so I know he really
doesn't mind the small bit of chaos in his perfect loft. I pick up the
paperweight running a finger across the small imperfection, the tiny flat
area that keeps it from rolling away. The marble is nicely cool at first,
then it warms up a little, absorbing some of my
body heat. I stare down at it and lose myself in the irregular bits of color
that make it beautiful.
I think about Molly and how she sounded so sad when I talked to her on the
phone last night. She doesn't really understand all of this. I think she's
afraid that she'll do something and Dad will send her away too. She's brave,
though. It was her idea to smuggle some of my things out of the house. I
guess Dad went kind of nuts and wrecked my room after he realized I wasn't
going to let him bully me into being the perfect straight son. Molly told
Daph that Dad tore up all my drawings. I think that's when I really understood
that I'd never go home again.
This paperweight was one of the first things Molly smuggled out for me. She
hid it in one of my socks, and wrapped more socks and a t-shirt around it
to protect it. As soon as Daph handed me the bundle, I knew what it was and
although my allergies kicked up all of a sudden, she and Brian didn't tease
me about them.
Molly and I used to play Treasure Hunt, Magic Quest, and all kinds of made
up games where we snuck around the house and searched for treasure. Many
times the treasure was this paperweight. Sometimes, we pretended it was a
crystal ball. Molly and I would take turns being the gypsy fortune-teller.
Sometimes, we'd drag Daph into it too; she told the best fortunes because
she once read a book about palm reading.
One night, when Brian was out, Daph came over and we drank some beers, got
really silly and started laughing about all the stupid predictions we made
for each other. Brian came home and found us passed out on the couch with
the empty bottles and pizza boxes lying around. He gave me all kinds of shit
about it, but I cleaned it all up while he drove Daph home. Mikey was pretty
pissed about having to follow them in the jeep so Brian could get home, but
he did it anyway. Mikey's like that.
Anyway, Brian didn't complain when he got home; I greeted him wearing only
a smile. That was a really good night.
I hold the paperweight up and admire the way it looks under the blue lights.
It's comfortingly warm now and the surface feels like satin. I run a finger
over it lightly and close my eyes, remembering the feel of Brian's hands
on my skin last night.
I slip into a familiar fantasy, letting my mind drift, imagining myself pale
marble. I'm beautiful this way, flawless and smooth - Brian wouldn't be able
to keep his hands off me. I would be naked, of course,
my slender body would be nicely defined, but not exaggerated. I would be
strong and alluring, my perfection irresistible. Brian would love the way
his touch warmed me and made me his. He would treasure me and hold me, keeping
me safe... even from the moisture of my own tears.
I reach blindly for the tissues, the paperweight slipping out of my grasp.
It rolls away as I dry my eyes, the tissue scratchy against my skin.
::end::