by Lissa Kasey
Nate returned downstairs to find Bastian on the couch with AJ in his lap. Ember and Ash each perched on his shoulders like little angels and demons to give him advice.
“Are you the cat whisperer?” Nate had to know.
Bastian laughed, “Naw. They all seem to like me though. Have one of my own. His name is Blue. Was rescued with these two little terrors. He’s bigger than them now. And my aunt Jessie has a cat named Oscar who is about as old as I am. He’s so tiny, he only weighs like five pounds. Nothing but fluff. Sweet cuddler though. He lives in my house for the most part. He just loves the windows and the attention. Jessie works too much to be home snuggling him as much as he’d like.”
AJ purred fiercely, like she was the happiest cat on the planet. “That cat is deathly afraid of anyone who is not me,” Nate said. “Well she hasn’t run from Jamie.” In fact, she’d let Jamie touch her more than once and not cringed away.
Bastian shrugged. “I think animals can tell good people from bad.” He scratched her ears. She closed her little eyes and gave him the Zen cat smile. “Usually I hang out here while Jameson, Charlie, and Graham chat. I go out to the barn and sketch the animals. How about we take our dessert out there? I people better when I’m sketching.”
Nate wasn’t sure what people meant, talking? Socializing? But he said “Okay.” He slipped his shoes on and picked up the pastry box. Bastian left the other boxes on the table. He brought his tablet and an actual sketchpad with him.
Harry met them at the door. Bastian scooped up the little goat under one arm and carried him along with them. Harry’s little legs kicked like he was swimming and having the time of his life. Nate had never been in the barn, though it looked well maintained from the outside. Nate was shocked at the size of the space. It looked more like a second house than a barn. There was a stable area where clean hay had been set out for Mattie. A wall had a handful of large dog crates against it. One end of the barn looked like a little living room. It had outdoor furniture set up around a small table with a firepit in it, a sort of chimney leading out the roof just above it. There was also what looked like a small bedroom tucked away, with a bunkbed in it and a tiny washroom.
“Jameson sleeps out here sometimes if he has new dogs,” Bastian said. He set Harry down, who instantly began bouncing from one end of the space to the other. “If the dogs are aggressive, sometimes he sits in the room and reads to them while they’re in the crate. Helps get them comfortable with people. I’ve fallen asleep on the couch over here before. Sometimes I think Charlie brings me here just so I get a nap.”
Nate followed Bastian to the sitting area and took the sofa looking seat and sank into the cushions. Soft. Bastian took the smaller love seat and put his feet up, leaning against the cushions. Nate sprawled out too. If they weren’t going to have an intense conversation, he was just fine chilling on a couch with the goat. He wondered if Jamie got mad at him, if he could stay out here. Maybe take care of the animals to earn his keep? He sighed, trying to quell the negative train of thought.
Bastian put the pastry box on the table and opened it. They both selected tarts. Bastian began sketching on the pad he’d brought. In just a few short strokes the outline of Harry emerged.
“That’s amazing,” Nate said.
“The tart?” Bastian asked, munching at his dessert.
“No. Well yes, that’s good, too. I mean your drawing.”
“Ah. Thank you. I have lots of practice. Been sketching since I was a little kid. Started drawing superheroes and stuff, then began creating my own characters. Sketching true to life is easy, just a composition of shadow, negative and positive space. Taking a design from inside my head and making it reality is a bit more complicated. But as you know my passion is dolls. I have a photo story out of the dolls that I’ve been trying to illustrate for a while, it just doesn’t look the same drawn out as it does in the photos. 3D realism really appeals to me. I have an offer from a publisher to create a manga out of the photo story, but I’m not sure I can really make it work.”
“Photo story? A story made from photos?”
“Right. A new take on the pictures-mean-a-thousand-words thing. It’s a bit like a comic book made of pictures.” He tapped a few things on his tablet, opening it and scrolling to something. “Here, you can read from the beginning if you’d like. Jameson said you’re a writer?”
“Yes.” Or at least he used to be. Nate took the tablet and looked over the first page. Set up like a Japanese manga, a series of photos with text bubbles told a story. “What sort of dolls are these?” He had thought when Charlie mentioned that Bastian was a doll painter, it would be more like the old-school creepy Victorian dolls like his aunt used to collect.
“Asian ball joint dolls.”
“They are very lifelike,” Nate said. Almost creepy, but yet hauntingly beautiful. The expressions of the faces didn’t change as the story went, but the dolls moved, and certain angles and variations of light set the emotion of the scenes. Before he realized it, Nate had finished his tart, grabbed another, and lost himself in reading the story. Five or six chapters in he stopped when he realized he’d been ignoring Bastian. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Your story just sucked me in.”
Bastian waved his hand, still holding a pencil in it. “No worries. Read. I’m just enjoying the drawing break.” He sketched away, though Nate couldn’t see the picture.
“You couldn’t have come all this way just to be bored watching me read,” Nate said.
“No. I was told I needed to leave the house today. Charlie insists that I must see real people from time to time. Someone other than him or my aunt. He is working today, so it’s just me. Started at the diner, but it was too noisy to sketch. Then I remembered that Charlie said you had just arrived on the island and thought maybe you could use some company. He said there had been some sort of incident at the camp so you’d come home early. Plus, of course, the benefit of Jameson’s critters. Sad that so many of the dogs are gone. I’m happy that they found new homes. I drove by Graham and Jason’s place, but I know Jason is always busy with the horses. And as pretty as the horses are and as clean as Jason keeps everything, I just can’t handle the smell.”
The outer door swung open and Mattie walked in, breezing right past them as if they weren’t there. She disappeared into the stall area on the end. He was surprised it didn’t smell in the barn of more than the fresh scent of hay, not of horse poop or mold.
Harry hopped off to visit Mattie, but was back in a few seconds crying for Nate’s lap. Nate picked him up and set the goat in his lap, then continued to read. When he remembered to glance up, Bastian was still drawing. By the time Nate had finished the entire forty-plus chapters of photo stories, he was in awe of Bastian’s skill and creativity. And Bastian was asleep.
“Crap,” Nate whispered to Harry, who had also tucked his head down and closed his eyes. He didn’t know if he should wake Bastian. He had to admit to being in awe of the man’s story telling skill. The story was high fantasy gay romance. There had even been sex scenes very carefully displayed through a series of very erotic photos. Of dolls. Nate was still floored. He hadn’t known such a thing was possible.
In the past two years he’d struggled to find interest in anything. Before he’d fallen ill, he’d loved reading so much he raced through easily a half dozen books a week. Now he just kept rereading the same things over and over again because his brain couldn’t seem to find interest in anything new. At least until today. Maybe it had been the new media type, the visualization, or the proximity to the creator. Nate didn’t know. But he was fascinated. Was there more of this stuff he could read? He thought about his own writing. Could he create characters this way? Would they feel more real if there was a physical presence to them? Even if they were just dolls?
Bastian’s sketchpad sat on the table, a small tin box next to it, open, revealing pencils. The top page of the pad looked like the drawing of a person. Nate reached over and carefully picked it up. He wondere
d if Bastian would get mad at him for looking at it.
The picture was of a moderately handsome man with dark, overgrown hair, staring down at an iPad. His eyelids were lowered enough to show nothing but the long sweep of lashes, and he had a goat sitting in his lap. A very familiar goat. This was not Nate. Not how he remembered himself at least. Where had the chubby guy with glasses gone? Had the dark rings under his eyes vanished? Or had Bastian simply not drawn them? The drawing was three-dimensional enough to feel like a portrait, shading making it pop from the page. Had he drawn this in their time today?
Nate flipped back through the sketchpad, finding pictures of horses, animals, the mountains, lots of Charlie, some in very not safe for work layouts, Graham, an unknown man Nate assumed was Jason since he was in a drawing with Graham, and even one of Jamie. Jamie’s picture made Nate pause. It looked like Jamie, sure enough. It just didn’t feel like Jamie. The warmth and boyish charm Nate had loved about Jamie for so long was missing. It was almost cold. Reserved. Did Jamie not show his friends his real side?
Bastian stirred and Nate quickly put the sketchpad back on the table.
“Sorry,” Bastian said as he stretched. “Can’t help it sometimes. Just need a nap.”
“I understand. Probably better than most,” Nate said. “I finished reading everything you have posted in the story so far. You’re going to be continuing it, right?”
“You’re a fast reader,” Bastian said. “Yeah, it’s ongoing. I try to do two pages a week. Depends on how many projects I have going on.”
“Where do you get your ideas?” Nate wanted to know. What Bastian drew seemed so detailed and set in the real world, he wondered how the man had created such an amazingly creative fantasy world.
Bastian waved his hand around. “It’s in my head all the time. Just stuff. Charlie said not everyone thinks that way. They aren’t always looking around for danger or conspiracies. If a cop car drives by I wonder who they are looking for? What if it’s drug dealers or spies or maybe they are just watching the locals looking for weird behavior? I get nervous about it, even though it’s all in my head. They could just be driving by to go get coffee.”
“Holy shit,” Nate said. “For real?” He had never met anyone whose head was as loud as his before. “Your brain is just playing a never-ending game of what-if?”
Bastian nodded.
“Me too. Like Jamie took me camping and all I could think about is what if there are bears or a lion escaped from a zoo or something?”
“No zoos on the island, but it would be where my brain goes too. I swear I saw a bear on the cameras outside my house. Charlie says it wasn’t a bear. It was pretty dark. I thought maybe it was bigfoot and talked about setting up camera traps, but Charlie said no. He said if it was bigfoot then the creature had hidden successfully for hundreds of years and it would be rude of us to out him. And then the island would be flooded with rednecks looking for bigfoot when all the poor bastard wanted was to be left alone.”
Nate laughed. “I kind of get the point of that, but wow, bigfoot!”
“I think that’s why I match so well with Charlie. He’s very grounded. Rational, but not put off by my crazy, you know? He gets me. Understands that sometimes my past wells up like a demon to crush me and he’s just gotta wrap his arms around me to pull me out of it. The rest of the time he’s just the tether that keeps me from floating off into la-la land.”
“I need to find someone like that,” Nate said.
“But you have. Jameson,” Bastian pointed out. “He’s the most grounded person I know besides Charlie. Even Graham is more temperamental than Jameson.”
“Right, but Charlie is your boyfriend, and Jamie’s just a friend.”
Bastian shrugged. “The world trains us to believe that sexual relationships are the be all end all. It makes sense in a patriarchal world. A lot of men think sex is everything. After surviving childhood sexual assault, I grew up fearing it. Sex became a mythical boogeyman. Fascinating yet terrifying. Charlie has taught me that relationships, all relationships, are more than just the physical. Sure, I love having sex with him. But I also love curling up with him on the couch for a movie, or sharing my ice cream with him. I love hearing him talk even if sometimes his need to tell me all the movies a random actor has been in before irritates the heck out of me.” He sighed, “What I’m saying is, take the relationships you have and make the most of them. People who truly care are few and worth holding on to.”
Nate didn’t have an answer for that. It was true he’d spent his entire life believing his life would be better if he just found ‘the one.’ But what if he was looking for the wrong thing? Affection came in a lot of forms. He loved his cats. They meant the world to him. So did Jamie. He’d spent so long terrified of having just that happen he’d done his best to push Jamie away. That hadn’t worked. If Jamie was going to run away, he’d had a million opportunities to do so. Yet he still hung around and did his best to be supportive. Nate had to stop looking at their relationship in fear.
What was the saying, if it was meant to be, let it go and it will come back to you? “You’re right,” Nate agreed. “I need to cherish what I have.”
“What brings you joy, not just what you have. Sometimes we hold on to things that don’t bring us joy just because it took us a long time to get those things. Jobs. Homes. People. Charlie helped me see that. I thought clinging to my family, as bad as they are, and trying to give them the best of me would change them and make me happy. Living without them makes me happy. Not having them manipulate me into a depression is amazing. I’m not sure I would have had the strength to cut them out of my life without Charlie.”
Nate’s family had cut him out years ago. But he realized then he’d been clinging to a lot more than just family. The job, the house, and the very idea that he had to be working in an office at a 50k a year job just to be happy. Lies. Manipulation by the world. “I’ve spent my life chasing the next raise, more money, higher status. My whole life has been a lie.”
“Nah,” Bastian said. “It’s just been a journey in the wrong direction. Now that you know you were headed the wrong way you can look for the direction that makes you happy. Joy doesn’t come from money or things, not for most. Money can help us get to a place where we might be happy. What do you like? What makes you happy? Your cats? Your writing? Hanging with your best friend? Why does it have to be more than that?”
“But you can’t survive without money.”
“In this world, true. However, there are things you can do with all those loves to make them sustainable. If you love the cats then work for the vet or a no-kill shelter. Like writing? That’s an easy one, even if it’s hard to get established. Hanging out with your friend? Maybe look into becoming a ranger too. I know they are still looking for a third ranger. There are options. I was never meant for an office job. I don’t know how people do it. I just can’t be around people all day and be nice. Too much of an introvert, I think. But art…” He let out a deep sigh. “There’s just something magical about creating something and sharing it with others. Nothing makes me happier than having someone commission a doll and then seeing their face when I complete it. Or knowing that someone is enjoying my stories like you just did. It inspires me to continue, even when I have hard days.”
“How did you get so wise?” Nate asked Bastian. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five.
“Therapy. Lots of therapy. Charlie helps too. And getting out to see people. Charlie puts it on my schedule else I just spend my days painting dolls and talking into a camera.” Bastian smiled, then glanced at his watch. “Oh, I should go. I need to film today and it’s almost five already.” He stacked his stuff on top of the pastry box. “I have a gift for you inside too. Sorry, I forgot about it. I have to make schedules and lists to get everything done every day. There’s just never enough time in a day.”
Nate got up and followed Bastian back to the house. Harry bounced along beside them until they got to the backdoor. He lo
oked very disappointed and let out an annoyed huff when he wasn’t let inside. Bastian went to his stack of boxes and took the bottom one. He handed it to Nate.
“I’ve had this in my collection for a while. Felt like I needed the right home for him. My gut says that home is you. Will you open it?” Bastian asked.
Nate frowned at the box. Why would a man he had just met give him anything? “But I don’t…”
Bastian waved a hand at him. “Please.”
Nate took the box and set it on the table so he could take off the lid. Inside was a bed of foam which cradled one of the Asian ball joint dolls Bastian seemed so fond of. “I can’t,” Nate said. “What if I break it?”
“They aren’t that easy to break. They are made of hard resin. I’ve got all the painting triple-coated. I included a few extra outfits that fit him too, so you can mix and match. Jameson said you’re really into fantasy too. And well, he’s a fantasy character I’ve never been able to work into my stories. I thought maybe you’d have the inspiration to fit him into yours.”
Nate carefully lifted the doll out of the box.
He looked like some sort of goth angel. Bastian pulled a stand out of the other box, and a plastic looking case. He put the stand together and stood the doll up in it. “He’ll stand on his own, but I wouldn’t leave them that way. If the strings inside need to be tightened, he’ll fall over. Sometimes small things break, like fingers or the paint chips. Nothing I can’t fix. It’s just easier to keep them upright on the stand.” Bastian adjusted the doll a little, getting it to pose looking like his hands were on his hips and he was a badass. “I don’t have a name for him yet. He was just a lot of ideas I tried all together. The hair doesn’t come off like other dolls either.”
The doll’s dark hair looked like a sort of long top-knot of Japanese history, with the sides shaved down in intricate designs. Only as Nate looked closer, the sides weren’t hair, but paint. Tiny lines so delicate they looked like hair.
“The hair is glued to the headcap, which is not something I normally do, but I couldn’t get it to stay any other way. I really like how it turned out. You can let it out of the ponytail and it will fall to both sides like he has real long hair.”
