The sculptor; part 19

The doorbell rings a second time. Insistent.

I look out of the window to see who it might be. I see an army jacket and a cap - a silhouette with hands in his pockets - nothing more, yet my heart skips a beat.

I open my window, lean out.

"Yes?"

The person takes a step back, looks up.

Disappointment descends from my thorax to my knees, making them weak.

It's not him.

The guy takes off his cap, shakes his dark curly hair.

"Hi...uh you're Hálwen, right?

"Yes."

"I'm Dave, I'm the..."

"I know who you are." I say.

"Can I come up?"

"Alright."

I walk to the intercom and buzz open the front door.

The bass player of Eddie's band walks up the stairs looking at me, and to a space behind me.

"Is he with you?" He asks.

"Who?"

"Eddie, is he with you?"

I now see he has an anxious, agitated look on his face.

"Damn." he swears.

When Dave enters my apartment he immediately walks up to the painting I'm making.

"Whoa." He says. "That is really amazing. When did he leave?"

"How do you mean 'when did he leave'? He was never here."

"But..." He looks back at the painting. Then at me. "You painted this by heart?"

I stare at my nails. Nervously.

"Yes, I've got a fairly good visual memory."

"You might say that...it is Eddie. There's no doubt. More. It is he. I mean, how he is! Inside! How did you do that..."

Do you love him?" He frowns at me.

"I...jeeesus, what is this? Why are you here? Uhm....do you want tea?"

Dave, the bass player, and I are drinking tea. He explains why he is here.

Eddie is missing. They have a couple of gigs and he hasn't shown up. He's an asshole and all, Dave says, but he's worried also - because Ed's his best friend.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"A couple of nights ago. We had this gig and it was great and then some incident happened and then we had a short break and then half way through the next song Eddie just said he couldn't handle this shit anymore and he excused himself and just walked away.  Haven't seen him since."

Dave must see I'm about to collapse.

He sits himself next to me and puts his arm around me.

"Hey...can I get you something. You're white as a sheet." Hugs me. "Don't worry. We'll find him. He's not the type to step out of it. We've been through a lot together. He's just a fucking weirdo."

"Dave....what happened to make him walk away?"

"I'm not sure. But there was this girl in the audience....she climbed the stage...Eddie was singing...really intense....the way he does....and she....well; I guess she came on too strong. Usually no problem to him...but lately..." He looks deep into my eyes.

Then pats my knee and walks up to the painting again.

I insist on trying to find Eddie myself, so Dave agrees to take me back to our city.

He lets me sleep at his place, because he is going to stay at his girlfriend’s house anyway.

During the night I have a brain wave.

Eddie is a sculptor. My guess is he needs to create. And he isn't at his place. Not at the academy. So where is he?

The next day I borrow Dave's bike after making a phone call to Joshua, our professor and mutual mentor.

"Hálwen, dear child." He had said. "Of course, Eddie often uses my work place. He knows he can come as he pleases. ....no....I'm abroad....haven't heard from him....yes...yes...take a look. You are always welcome to use the place as well."

It's a lovely day and the birds sing in the meadows while I cycle into the countryside. Joshua's atelier is 15 minutes away from the city. I can see the little cottage hidden behind some poplar trees. The wind makes the leaves rattle, but otherwise it is quiet...awfully quiet.   But for some clanging sound.

I lean the bike against one of the trees and decend towards the little house and the large shed behind it.

As I approach the clanging gets louder.

I peak through one of the windows of the shed. Joshua's work place.

There is a light burning, a bright fluorescent lamp, but there is nobody around. I see workbenches, all kinds of materials, dust....and the doors of the shed wide open.

Quietly I stealth around the shed. If he's there I don't want him to know I’m looking for him.

There is an over grown patio.

In the middle a work bench with a large piece of metal.

The clanging is a hammer against the metal. Violent, purposeful.

Naked torso, coverall stripped down to the waist. Sweat between the shoulder blades, hair tucked away under a backward cap.

Eddie.

Oh god. The tackiness of it all - how his muscles work under his smooth skin, drops of sweat pearling along his spine while he lifts the sledge hammer and smashes it at the hard matter.
He looks like a calendar boy. Leaning back a bit as he wipes away the sweat from his brow.

I squat behind a bush. I hope he didn't see me.

He continues to bang on the material. Shaping it to his will. Then he lays down the hammer and picks up a bottle of water.  Gulps thirstily.

Turns around and walks back to the shed. Quickly I dive further away into the shrubs.

Eddie comes out again. Now wearing a tee, a towel around his neck and a guitar in his hands. Sits down on a block of lumber.

Gently handles the guitar and starts playing.

Sings with his deep quivering voice. Strong but fragile at the same time. Enchanting me.

Oh no

Here comes that sun again

That means another day

Without you my friend

And it hurts me

To look into the mirror at myself

And it hurts even more

To have to be with somebody else

And it's so hard to do

And so easy to say

But sometimes

Sometimes you just have to walk away

Walk away

With so many people

To love in my life

Why do I worry

About one

But you put the happy

In my ness...*

Suddenly he stops. Frowns, taps rhythmically on the body of the guitar and goes into the shed.

I hear some noise, but then it's quiet.

He doesn't return.

Disappointed I try to stretch my legs, to get the blood streaming again. A tingling sensation, almost painful.

Sudden crashing makes me yelp. Strong arms around me, pushing me down.

"Stalking Hálwen, you make a habit out of spying on me." His voice in my ear.

I roll on my back.

"I wasn't spying! Get off me!" I try to push him away. Punching him. He takes my wrists in his hands.

He chuckles.

"I knew you where a nymph, but never could have guessed you had your domicile in these shrubs here."

"Umph." Is all I can utter. He sits astride on me. Holding my wrists above my head.

The expression on his face changes. His smile disappears and he just stares into my eyes.

Slowly he bends down and when his lips almost touch mine, I feel his warmth and close my eyes while I inhale his scent; he simply whispers my name.

Then he kisses me. Lets go of my wrists, but glides with his hands along the insides of my arms to stop at my sides, next to my breasts - gently stroking them with his thumbs.

A long, slow, kiss follows - like summertime on the beach.

Our tongues, our lips. Nothing more.

With a groan he breaks the spell and sits up. Takes me in his arms.

"How did you find me, pixie love?"

"I just had a hunch you might be working here. I asked Joshua where you make your objects if not at the academy."

"Hm....smart girl."
He reaches for his cap that has fallen off.

"Eddie...Dave came looking for you at ... at my place. Why?"

He is silent for a while. Contemplating.

"Why what?"

Suddenly irritated he gets up, giving me his hand and pulls me with him.

"Don't think too much about it." He says. Cold.

He pushes his hands in his pockets and turns around.

Walks away.

"Shall I tell Dave that I found you?" I call after him as he disappears into the shed.

"Do whatever you feel like." He says over his shoulder. "I don't care."

I feel tears welling behind my eyes. I crush my teeth with frustration.

I run after him and shove him around violently.

"Eddie! Quit fucking me in the brain!" I scream at him.

"You crazy motherfucker, you hurt me! Don't you see! You hurt me!"

Crying I sink to my knees, clutch his tee in my fists.

"You hurt me so." I sob quietly.

Eddie kneels down.

"Hálwen." Hesitantly he lifts my chin. Looks me in the eyes. Worried. A big crease between his brows. His pupils are huge.

"Why? Why do you keep fucking me in the brain?" I wail. "Why? Why don't you stick to those other girls? Why me? I don't understand this fuckery! Can't you see?"

He reaches for me. But I push him away, crouch on the floor.

"You confuse me so..." I sniff.

Silence.

Slowly I get up. He sits in front of me. With his arms clasped around his knees.

He bites his lip. Tears roll over his cheeks.

"I don't want this....I don't want you to cry." He whispers.

"This has to stop...I can't pretend. It's....I don't want those other girls. I only want you."

He inhales deeply.
"I'll call Dave... I'll play tonight...but...that's it...I don't want fame and all that bullshit. I'll tell them tonight...

...please stop crying..."

Irritated he wipes away a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand.

He breathes out. 

"Can't you see I love you? I never loved anybody...but I love you. I know I do."

His eyes. Pain. His beautiful eyes. His face. His hair. I devour him with my eyes.
And I, I feel...I feel...I close my eyes. Just let this feeling wash over me.

*Walk away by Ben Harper

The sculptor; part 18

I'm in my room. In the other town. The big city with the pretentious academy.

After staying another night at Sas's her place I went back. Sas and Martin brought me to the station.

Hugged me warmly and waved till they couldn’t see me anymore.

I stare out of the window. The landscape a blur. A blur, a blur, a blur, like my memory of the day before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I must have fallen into a deep sleep after Eddie and I made love on Sas her bed, because when I woke up I was alone. Eddie had left. No trace of him except for a piece of paper with some scribbling on it and, right in the middle, my panties - stuck upon the wall with a pushpin.

It said.

Nymph of the heavenly orgasm,

Your boyfriend came to bring back your panties.
Guess he's not a trophy hunter.

I said you weren't around.

Ed.

I sank to my knees and crumpled up the note together with the piece of fabric.
After a while I got up and went into the shower. The warm water streaming over my body reminded me of Eddie's embrace. For a moment I welcomed that feeling, but I turned the hot tab off and endured the icy cold to harden myself against the knowledge that he is a male Atalanta - sworn to the god of fuckery.

Like she said she would be Sas came home just after 5 o'clock. I told her everything that had happened

"Yikes." She pulled a face.

"Don't worry. I changed the sheets."

"That's not the point, silly. It's just. I don't see how this will come to any good. That Rave though...what an ass. You think he knew the sculptor was with you?"

"I'm not sure. What if. He has no claims on me."

"And Eddie does?"

I must have looked like a pathetic lost puppy, because Sas jumped up to hug me.

"Ah, little Hálwen. The mess you're in."

Sas and I baked cupcakes. Ate them all while we drank tea and smoked pot and after that we went to a club.

Martin was there already. He enjoyed my story. Well, at least he made me see things in perspective. I'm young, talented and apparently hot enough to have two lovers, even though one of them is rather erratic and halfhearted.

And I have two great friends.

We were sitting in a quiet corner and eating a curry and drinking beer when Eddie came in.

As always he was accompanied by a smashing looking girl. Oh. I cringed inside. Martin saw it and he took my hand and stroked my face. He pulled me to him.

"Don't let him get to you. He's a slut. Forget him."

"You'll make new friends at the other academy. You'll see. There most be hot guys over there as well. In fact: I think I'll come with you." Sas said.

"Hot guys! Yes please!" Martin squeaked.

"No you can't. You're taken." Sas reprimanded him.

"Adrian won't mind." Martin sulked.

"Yes, he will. Look at the sorry state I'm in." I reminded him.

"Ah little one, you'll get over this bitch soon enough."

I sighed. Looked at Eddie, a few tables away, who was looking at me while he gulped his beer and had his arm around the girl's shoulder.

"Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." I pushed my chair back.

I felt tears welling in my eyes. Clutching the banisters I went down the stairs to the restroom.

"Don't cry, don't cry." I told myself in front of a mirror, trying to push away the tears with my fists.

Then I felt his presence. He stroked a lock of hair behind my ear. Whispered my name against the delicate skin of my throat while his hand found its way under my shirt, caressing my naked tummy.

I said nothing. Just leaned back against his lean, warm body and let escape a shivering sigh.

I looked through my fingers at the reflection of him standing behind me. Touching me. Being pinned by his mesmerizing eyes. Oh god, that face, that beautiful face. His image created a vacuum in which time seemed to float and so did my feelings, my lust, my love.

His warmth behind me. His breathing. His hands working on my body, sculpting me, making me into that girl that arose each time when he was around.

And then a no emerged from deep inside the well of my being. Was it my brain that called?

"No."

He seemed to freeze.

I shook of his hands.

I shook of my arousal.

And I walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

And since I walked away the image of me and him keeps following me. Expanding into fantasies. Fantasies of love making in that bathroom. Him pushing me against the sink. Me making his legs tremble. Words, sighs, moans.
Lovemaking.

Why did I say no...

I get up and walk to the wall I use as an easel. I take out the big dry brush that still has some pigment on it and start pushing, pulling, stroking the canvas with it. I squeeze a bit of paint from a tube of sepia, dip a small paintbrush in it and carefully add detail. Smear some paint on my fingertips and caress the image into likeliness.

Then I take a few steps back.

It's him. The sculptor.

I take a cloth and wipe my hands clean, staring at the portrait I made.

"I love you." I tell it.

Then the doorbell rings.