by Alexa Land
He looked around with wide-eyed wonder, and a huge smile spread across his face. It got even wider when he saw I hadn’t stopped at the decorations. Three walls of our living room were painted with a whimsical blue-on-blue cityscape by our artist friend Christian, and I’d stuck on little cartoons to turn it into a holiday scene. There were now Christmas trees in many of the windows, and groups of carolers and shoppers carrying stacks of presents lined the streets. Best of all, Santa and his reindeer flew over the buildings, trailing a little banner which read: ‘Merry Christmas, Skye’. I’d also added snow to the cityscape in the form of spray-on Christmas tree flocking, after making sure it would wash off without damaging the masterpiece beneath it.
My husband grabbed me in an embrace and buried his face in my shoulder as he whispered, “Thank you so much, Dare. I can’t believe you did all this.”
“It was fun.”
“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”
“I slept before I went and found you in the warehouse last night.”
He leaned back to look at me as he said, “But your show’s tonight, and you’re going to be so tired.”
I just shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Have a seat while I get your pancakes. I stuck them in the oven to keep them warm.”
He looked around and asked, “What time is it?” I knew he wouldn’t like the answer. When I told him it was nine-thirty, his expression became panicked and he exclaimed, “Why did you let me sleep in?”
“Because you needed it.”
“But I have so much to do today!”
“You have less than you think. I already wrapped the presents for your mom and her partner and mailed them at the post office when it opened at nine. I also texted Quinn and ordered several holiday cookie trays from his company. He and his husband are going to deliver them to everyone on our gift list, so you don’t have to go shopping.
“That only left Quinn and his family to buy for,” I continued, “since I obviously couldn’t ask him to deliver cookies to himself. I decided what he probably really needed right now were a few meals that he and his husband and son didn’t have to cook, since their business is insanely busy this time of year. So, I hired your brother to prepare a week’s worth of gourmet dinners that can be kept in the fridge or freezer and easily reheated. He’s going to deliver them to Quinn’s house this afternoon. It’s handy to have a caterer in the family.”
“That’s all brilliant.”
“I know you’ll want to do more for your brother and his husband than cookies, but it’s a start.”
I stepped around the counter and reached for a mug. A moment later, Skye nearly tackled me from behind and blurted, “I absolutely adore you.”
I grinned at him over my shoulder and said, “Coincidentally, I adore you, too.”
Getting my husband to actually sit down to breakfast felt like quite the accomplishment. He ate everything I put in front of him, and then he said, “I think I figured out what I need to finish the sculptures, and I even know where to find it. Do you have time to come with me to the junkyard before your dress rehearsal?”
“Sure. The guys aren’t expecting me until noon.”
Skye looked upset. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to help with the set pieces and all the last minute stuff you need to do for the show tonight. You’ve done so much for me, and I feel awful that I can’t return the favor.”
“I have the guys in my troupe to help me,” I reminded him. “Please don’t feel guilty for being busy.”
“It seems like I’m always busy lately, and that you and I have only been able to grab a few minutes here or there. Something’s gotta give, because I need more time with you.”
I got up and took his empty plate, then brushed his soft, blue hair from his eyes as I said, “The holidays are always hectic, but things should slow down after Christmas.”
“That seems wrong. Don’t you think? The holidays are supposed to be about spending time with loved ones. You’re my loved one, but I barely get to see you.”
I kissed his forehead and said, “Well, we have the next two hours to spend with each other.”
“At a junkyard.”
“Junkyards are your happy place, so that should count as quality time.” He didn’t look convinced.
*****
We drove to the edge of town and cut through an industrial neighborhood that had seen better days. Most of the buildings were boarded up and covered with graffiti. The one business that continued to thrive was the junkyard, which had been run by the Hudson family for more than fifty years. Skye was on a first-name basis with them, since he was one of their best customers.
When we got there, we found the gate was closed and locked. The note posted on the barbed wire-topped chain link fence told us the family was taking some time off through Christmas, and Skye muttered, “Shit. I was really counting on this.”
“We could try another junkyard.”
“But I knew exactly what I wanted from here, and I won’t find it anyplace else. They salvaged these amazing, almost lacy wrought iron panels last month, and they were going to be the perfect finishing touch for my sculpture.”
I asked, “Can you recreate them with other materials?”
“Not in the time I have left before the deadline.”
“Let’s take a walk through that salvage yard near the waterfront and see if something else jumps out at you.”
Skye shook his head. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was totally fixated on those panels, and nothing else would do now that he’d decided they were what he needed. When he started to walk along the fence line, I asked, “What are you doing?”
“I know exactly where they are in the yard. The Hudsons probably won’t mind if I go in and get them, then slip the cash under their office door.”
“You see the barbed wire at the top of this fence, right? I don’t think going in and getting them is really an option.”
“It’s easy enough to get around that,” he said, as we rounded the corner.
I trailed behind him and pointed out, “But it’s there for a reason. They don’t want people coming into the yard when they’re not here.”
“It’s to prevent theft. I’m planning to pay for the panels, and that’s a total win-win for the Hudson family. They get to take a vacation and still make money. Oh hey, here we go.” Skye stopped beside a big oak, whose branches hung over the barbed wire fence. “I need to remember to tell them about this tree after the holidays, so they can trim it. This makes it way too easy for someone to break in.”
As he started to climb the tree, I asked, “How are you going to get the panels over this fence?”
“We’ll figure something out.” He gingerly crawled out onto the overhanging branch, then dropped into the yard.
I put my hands on my hips and faced him through the chain link. “I feel like one of us should be the voice of reason here. The owners of this junkyard might like you, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be happy about you breaking into their place of business and helping yourself to whatever you want, even if you’re paying for it.”
“I’m sure they’ll be okay with it, because we’re friends,” he said. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, just wait for me out there.”
“How big are the panels?”
“There are four of them, and each is about three feet wide and eight or nine feet long.”
I started to climb the tree as I told him, “You’re going to need my help. They must weigh a ton.”
When I dropped into the yard beside him, Skye smiled at me and kissed my cheek. “Thanks, Dare.”
“I’m doing this against my better judgement, but we’ve come this far so let’s get it done. Where are they?”
“On the other side of the property.”
The junkyard filled the better part of a city block, and like items were grouped together. We’d landed in the car section and were surrounded by decrepit vehicles representing every era of automotive history. Most of them had been s
cavenged for parts, and some were so rusty and broken down that it was tough to tell what make and model they used to be.
When we left the automotive graveyard, Skye and I joined hands and wove through a maze of salvaged sinks and bathtubs. He grinned at me and said, “At least it’s a nice day for a walk.”
He was right about that. The sky was bright blue and cloudless, and the temperature was probably in the mid-sixties. I grinned too and said, “You always bring me to the best places.”
“I know, right? Forget a boring old park or beach. A romantic stroll through a junkyard is where it’s at.”
We soon reached the very center of the junkyard. The Hudson family had gotten a bit creative there. A mountain of mattresses with an American flag at its pinnacle was surrounded by a wide, circular path, and eight more paths radiated outward like the spokes of a wheel. The mountain rose maybe twenty feet in the air, and it was huge at its base with dozens of mattresses arranged haphazardly. But it became tidier from there. It kind of reminded me of a giant game of Jenga in the middle section with the way the mattresses were stacked, and then it grew narrower toward the top. At its peak was a single king mattress, topped with a queen, which in turn was topped with a twin.
As soon as we reached the base of the mountain, a low growl caught our attention. In the next instant, a pair of huge, ferocious-looking dogs stepped out from behind some bins with their hackles raised. I swore under my breath while Skye held a hand out to them and said, in a high, cartoonish voice, “Hey, puppies. No cause for alarm. We’re friends.”
He tried to take a step toward them, but when the dogs started barking and charged at us, I yelled, “Climb!”
My heart raced as I grabbed the edge of a mattress and found a foothold. Fortunately, the wide base made the mountain fairly easy to climb, even with the dogs literally nipping at our heels. The stack swayed precariously when we reached the top, and I held my breath as we both froze.
After a few moments, the swaying came to a stop, and we sat down carefully on the uppermost mattress, which was pierced with a flag pole. Meanwhile, the dogs tried and failed to climb the stack repeatedly, before resigning themselves to circling its base and barking like crazy.
Skye said, “That was a close call.”
He showed me where one of the dogs had caught and shredded the hem of his jeans, and I asked, “Are you alright? Did he bite you?”
“I’m fine. He just got the fabric.” We caught our breath, and when the dogs finally stopped barking, he said, “I had no idea there were guard dogs. No wonder the family wasn’t concerned about that tree giving people access to the yard.” He peered over the edge of our perch and asked, “What kind of dogs are those, anyway? They look like a cross between a Doberman, a Rottweiler, and a hell hound.”
“I think that’s exactly what they are. Give me your phone. I’m going to check and see if the Hudsons have a listed home phone number, because we’re going to need them to call off the dogs.”
“I left my phone in the warehouse last night. Where’s yours?”
“In the truck. I expected us to drive away when we saw this place was closed, so I didn’t grab it.”
Skye said, “Since we can’t call for help, I guess our only option is to befriend those dogs. Animals love me, so that should be doable, right?”
“Definitely not. They’re doing exactly what they’ve been trained to do, and if you try to go near them, they’ll attack you.”
He asked, “Then what’s the solution? We can’t outrun them, but we also can’t wait them out, because I don’t think they’re going anywhere.”
“I suppose someone will come along eventually and rescue us.”
“When? After Christmas? We can’t stay up here for days! We can’t even stay up here a few hours. Your show is tonight, and your troupe is expecting you at noon.”
I reclined on my side and propped my head up with my hand, moving slowly to make sure I didn’t unbalance the stack beneath us. “The good news is, when I don’t show up the guys will realize something’s wrong and start to look for me.”
“But they’ll never think to look for you here! This is a real problem, Dare. How can you be so calm?”
“Panicking doesn’t help, and I’m trying to think of any possible solutions.” While I was talking, I pulled the flagpole from the center of the mattress to give us more room, then leaned over and slid its end beneath the mattress. The flag unfurled as it caught the light breeze.
Skye had been on his knees, and he sat down cross-legged beside me as he said, “You’re really good in a crisis. Meanwhile, I want to scream and cry.”
“It’s going to be okay.” I rubbed his back as I said that.
He leaned against me, and after a while he muttered, “I had so much to do today. The longer we’re stuck up here, the less likely it is that I’ll be able to meet my deadlines.”
“I’m sure your client will understand, once you explain what happened. And you know Nana will be okay with it if you can’t finish her holiday display.” Our friends’ grandmother had always treated us like family.
“How am I going to explain this to my client? Like, ‘oh sorry I couldn’t finish the Christmas present for your husband and business partner. I know you wanted to present it to him during your company’s holiday party, but I broke into a junkyard and got treed like a cat on top of a giant heap of filthy mattresses, so I just couldn’t get it done.’ He’ll think I’m insane!
“And yeah, Nana will understand, but she really wanted to show up her bigoted asshole neighbor across the street in the neighborhood decorating contest. She planned to beat him with the gayest holiday display anyone had ever seen, and I’d almost finished the giant rainbow that was going to start in her yard and arch up over the top of her roof. I’d wired two thousand lightbulbs to it, and it was going to flash in time to an Elton John soundtrack. You know how much Nana loves Sir Elton. But if I don’t finish, all she’s going to have is the ugly scaffolding I set up in her yard yesterday to help me with installation.”
I reminded him, “We don’t know how long we’ll be up here, so you could still get it done, Skye.”
“I hope so, because I can’t stand letting people down. I hate that more than anything.”
I knew it helped him to talk through his projects, so I asked, “What still needs to happen on Nana’s rainbow and the sculpture?”
“The rainbow’s arch wants to fold in on itself, so I need to come up with a solution. I already added braces to the back of it, but they made the problem worse, because they were heavier than the aluminum sheeting I used for the rainbow and made it fold even more. What I really need to do is weld an entire, separate framework, but there’s just no time.”
I asked, “What about the sculpture of the two men? To me, it looks like it’s done, but I know you’re trying to match a picture in your head.”
He shrugged and zipped his blue hoodie as the breeze picked up. “It feels uninspired, so I was hoping that adding sections of the wrought iron panels would liven it up a bit. I imagined it almost swirling around them, to make the whole thing more visually interesting.
“Another problem is the fact that they don’t fit together perfectly, and it ruins the effect of the passionate embrace. I really wanted the tilted figure to rest his head on the other one’s shoulder in a way that seemed organic, but no matter how many times I’ve tried to adjust it, the angle of his head is still a little off.”
I listened patiently as he talked through ways of solving the problems with both pieces, but after a while, he ran out of steam and fell silent. I held my arms out to him, and he curled up against my chest with his head on my bicep. “I feel like an imposter,” he said. “Somehow, I’ve managed to convince people that I’m a real artist, and that I know what I’m doing. But I feel like everyone will eventually figure out I’m just a fraud, and that my work is mediocre at best.”
“You’re brilliant, Skye, and your sculptures are amazing.”
“Thanks
for saying that, but I really don’t feel brilliant. That sculpture isn’t anything special, either. Just because it’s a gay couple doesn’t automatically make it unique, subversive, or anything else, but I guess I was relying on that to elevate it.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. You have to be physically and mentally exhausted after the long hours you’ve been putting in for the last several weeks, so please try to cut yourself some slack, okay?”
“I don’t deserve any slack. Just look where we are right now,” he said, as he waved his hand. “This is the direct result of one of my bad ideas, and I don’t know how we’re going to get out of it. The worst part is, you’re probably going to miss your show, and you worked so hard on it. I feel awful about that, Dare.”
I tilted his chin up and kissed him before saying, “If I miss the show, there will be others. All the guys in my troupe are smart and adaptable, so they’ll figure out how to work around my parts. Plus, since it’s actually my troupe, it’s not like I’m going to get fired or anything.”
“You really aren’t mad at me?”
“Not even a little.”
“But I’m pretty much a total fuck-up.”
“Hardly. You’re a fun, spontaneous, totally unique individual who keeps our lives interesting, and I’m so lucky to be married to you, Skye. Case in point: I had no idea when I woke up this morning that I’d wind up on top of Mattress Matterhorn, pinned down by a pair of vicious hell hounds. This is going to make a damn fine story down the road, and I have you to thank for that.”
Skye grinned and said, “Thanks for trying to turn it into a positive. It’s going to be way less entertaining when we’re still up here on Christmas, though.”
“Someone’s going to show up eventually to feed the dogs, so we won’t be stuck that long.”
