This is a work of fiction. It is straight out of my imagination, except for most of the pagan practices mentioned. This is written for adults and if you are not supposed to read this where you live, then please don't.
Part 18
I called ahead and made an appointment to see Steven the next morning. I spent the early morning in a similar situation with Ryan, as the day before. I showered and dressed once he had left. I put on a light linen suit, a little darker green than a Coke bottle, and put the crate in the back of my car. It barely fit, and I was relieved that I didn't have to strap it to the roof. I drove to Steven's three story Victorian mansion. It covered nearly the whole plot of land it occupied and was surrounded by a low stone wall, topped with a sharp wrought iron fence. The back garden was greedily surrounded by a ten foot stone wall.
I pulled the crate from the car and propped it against the gate. I locked the car and checked my hair. I grabbed the crate and a made my way to the door. I paused before ringing the bell. I could hear an argument taking place somewhere inside. I listened for a moment and then rung the bell. I heard footsteps approaching the door and heard the heavy lock turn. The door opened to reveal Simpson, Steven's butler.
"Yes sir, right this way," he said taking the crate from me. "May I get you anything, Mr. Blackwatch. A cup of coffee or tea perhaps," he said as he lead me to the parlor. Simpson had to be at least seventy, if not older. He had very good posture for his age, but he got slower every time I saw him. His hair had long since turned white, what was left of it, and his nose was large and red. His formal tailcoat was pristine, and his collar was starched within an inch of it's life.
"Oh, no thank you Simpson. I won't be staying long, just long enough to show Mr. Sanders the painting."
"Very good, sir." He placed the crate on the floor and leaned it against chair. "Please make yourself comfortable. I am sure Mr. Sanders will be down directly." Simpson left the room and I sat down on a nearby sofa. The room was Victorian in flavor, but with comfortable furniture. I heard voices coming from the stairs and I stood up. I tried, to no avail, to flatten the sitting creases in my trousers. Steven walked in, followed by the young man from the photo in the paper. He saw me and smiled.
"Caison, old boy, this is August Merlot. He is... um, my new... assistant." The young man smiled and extended his hand. We shook and I noticed his loose wrist and week grasp. He was handsome, almost pretty. He could be no more than twenty, with smooth ivory skin and raven black hair, long on top, hanging in his face. His eyes were ice blue, and looked through me. The eyes were indeed familiar, and I wondered if he was wearing contacts.
His clothes were best described as gothic. He wore a burgundy velvet waistcoat over a black poet shirt and black suede pants. His right ear carried a silver spider hanging by a chain from an onyx teardrop. I was quite impressed and, to my surprise, more than a little attracted to him.
"It is very nice to meet you Mr. Blackwatch. I have heard much about your artistic ability and I look forward to seeing your work." His voice was smooth, and silky. It seemed a bit put on, like he was making a show for company, but I didn't care. I liked the sound of it.
"Well, let's have a look then," I said and turned to the crate. I opened it carefully and pulled the painting from the case. I turned it around and presented it to Steven. He gasped and I believe tears formed in his eyes.
"You have done a wonderful job, my boy. I am quite impressed. That is the old girl, life like and beautiful." He took the painting and sat it on his mantle.
"You can store it in this crate until you have it framed. Are you sending it to Thomas for framing," I asked.
"Yes. I actually found some very old stock frame in a house I purchased, and I am having it made from that. He is going to gold leaf it and all." He stood staring up at the painting and fell silent. Steven was acting a bit strange. He seemed to be a bit slow, dulled some how. I wondered if this new twink had gotten him hooked on drugs.
"It is quite beautiful. I did not have the pleasure of meeting his mother, but I have seen photos. You are quite good." He paused and looked at Steven. Steven turned and looked back at him.
"Could you leave us for a moment, um, August," he said. August turned back to me with a smile.
"Please excuse me Mr. Blackwatch. I shall leave you to talk business." He made a quick motion, sort of like a bow, and left the room, walking close by Steven as he went. Steven watched him go, and then looked back at me.
"Well, Cais. You know, as well as I do, that he is no assistant." I smiled and looked down at the floor.
"Well, yes, I know that. More people than you know, know that." It was now his turn to look down and smile.
"Well, that is how I have chosen to live. What can I say, I am a coward, and I am comfortable in my cowardice." He walked over to the chair and motioned for me to sit down.
"A bed is comfortable, but if you lay there long enough, you get sores," I said as I sat back on the couch. He smiled and seemed to think for a moment.
"Could you paint a portrait of August for me. I have become quite fond of him, but you know how it is. I don't know how long he will be around. He is young and quite beautiful. I am getting old, and money is only attractive for so long." He sank into his chair, looking defeated. I felt a little sorry for him.
"Sure, why don't you send him around next week. I have some work I wanted to get done, and I have several pictures to have done before Christmas. I doubt I could have it painted by then. I just don't work very fast."
"No, that is fine. I wouldn't hurry you. Your work is so beautiful, I would hate to disrupt your process." He stood up and I pulled myself from the sofa. He reached into his coat and pulled out his wallet. He removed and check and handed it to me. I glanced at it and put it in my own wallet. "I will have him call on you Monday morning." I nodded and moved to the hall. He walked me to the door and opened it.
"I look forward to seeing him," I said and left.
(To be continued)
The next chapter will be submitted soon.
I welcome comments, twinkchaser@excite.com