Core. Kassten Alonso
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His clothing another wet heap on the scuffed linoleum. He kicked the clothing aside and hawked and spat in the sink. Red spray on yellowed enamel.
Come on man, Cam had said, It’d totally lack for her to be there by herself. Sure she knows some people but. But since you promised you’d go anyway I figured you could maybe be my stand in dig? Fetch her beers and ears a corn and shit. Tell her what a great motherfucker I am.
He stared from the mirror. He ran a hand through his hair. Plaster. Face streaked wet with plaster. He pulled down his lower lip. Blood seeped between his teeth. Blood stained his eyes. Shadows rustled in his eyes. Shadows clutched of sweat and dust. Shadows black flails beat out grains on the threshing floor. Had it all been a dream? Or something else?
I told you I didn’t want to stay too long, he had said. Maybe you should find yourself another babysitter.
Cam had said Look man I know what you’re thinking but believe me this chick ain’t my usual. Not by a fucking long shot. Check it out she dyes her hair black not blonde. Cam had laughed. Come on man. You’d be doing me a real big flavor.
He twisted the hot water tap. Brown water turned red turned clear. Water could wash blood down the sink. But water could never get warm enough. He reached for the toothbrush the rolled up tube of paste. He squeezed a blue worm of paste onto the frayed bristles. Saw his face, asleep and dreaming under the water. Eyes open under the water. And mouth wide and drowning.
He shook his head. He leaned over the sink and brushed his teeth. Plaster stained the backs of his hands. The way Cam just smiled at him and said nothing. The way Cam smiled because Cam liked this game because Cam always won. He spat pink foam in the sink. He dipped his mouth in the stream of tepid water. He spat again and rinsed his brush and said, You’re such an asshole, Cam.
So you’ll be my stunt double tonight? Cam said.
He waved the toothbrush at Cam in the mirror. Just promise me this isn’t some kind of set up, he said.
Cam laughed. I know you’re going to have a good time man. And I bet you get a kick out a this chick. I’ll drop her off later tonight.
Can’t wait, he said.
HAIR DYED BLACK. JUST COVERED HER EARS. METAL BARRETTES pulled the bangs off her face. Cutoffs and green horn rims and plaid shirt knotted to show her pale belly. She had big legs and big hips, her breasts not big but big enough.
He wiped his hands on a towel. The two of them watched Cam’s jeep bounce away up the old fire road. The girl waved after. He looked down at his high tops. He kicked a splinter of wood. Fucking Cam.
He said, Want a beer?
She shrugged. Why not, she said.
Got some in the fridge, in the, in the studio. In here. He stepped aside so she could enter the tin outbuilding.
She turned in place to take in the room. This is cute, she said. He moved past her on the left, toward the mini fridge beneath the wedging table. He tossed the towel on the table and kneeled and said, Well. I’m not sure how cute this is, but it does the job.
So Cameron says you do like, ceramics, she said.
Hiss when he twisted the cap off a bottle. He handed the bottle to her. Among other things, he said. He opened a second bottle and rattled the caps in his fist. Sculpture mostly. Stone, plaster. Clay. Wood every now and then. And sure, ceramic. Tiles. That’s why I put the kiln in.
You sell any of this stuff? she said, and took a drink.
Just the tiles, he said. To pay the bills. He sat back against the wedging table. He sipped his beer.
She leaned against the large worktable across from him and looked around. Could use a little decor, she said.
Too distracting.
The girl shrugged. A friend of mine David has a studio downtown not so full-blown as this place yet but he does have a press for prints and woodcuts and shit.
I’ve always wanted a press, he said. They raised their beers to their mouths and looked around. She caught him staring and he glanced away. He shook his fist and the caps clinked.
She swayed toward the back of the studio. Bottle loose between two fingers. So this is the kiln she said over her shoulder. You say you put it in?
He rose from the wedging table and walked up behind her. Yeah, he said.
That’s cool, she said. She moved past him, up the back aisle of the room. He followed. She placed a hand on one hip and looked up and down. Now this thing looks like a giant spice rack, she said. What’s in all the jars?
Glazes, he said. Oxides. Whiting. That kind of stuff. She glanced over the mason jars labeled with dirty masking tape, at the smaller jars, at the bottles and bins, the sieves and mortar.
This the scale Cameron weighs his dope out on? she said, and smiled. She raised her beer to her lips. What did she look like without her glasses.
Cam told you about all that, huh?
Of course, she said. Lovers tell each other everything.
He rattled the caps in his fist. He said, I suppose.
What’s this thing? she said. She pointed down at the stand that held two metal rollers. The rollers were attached to an AC motor. She reached out and spun one of the rollers.
It’s a ball mill stand, he said. He pushed the bottle caps down his pocket and picked up a porcelain jug. Shook the jug and pebbles rattled inside. Ball mill, he said. For mixing glazes.
She turned and stepped over to the worktable. She said, Let’s see. This is a chisel and here’s a spoon and a penknife. Sandpaper. One of those dental scrapy things. Oo. What kind of a hammer is this?
He shook the pebbles in the ball mill and set the mill on the stand. It’s called a bouchard, he said. Bush hammer.
She swung the hammer a couple times. It’s weird it’s like a meat tenderizer. These points, she said, and rubbed her fingers over the face of the hammer. What’s it used for?
You use it to like. Wear away stone. It like, bruises it. Pulverizes. He drank his beer. She lay the bouchard on the table.
She said, I almost want to ask what you do for fun.
He shrugged and looked around the room. Whether it’s fun or not, I can’t really say. But this is what I do.
She tipped her bottle up and drank. She set the bottle down on the scale. Fumbled the balances left and right. Jesus how do you read this thing? she said and laughed. Shit. Never was any good at science or home ec or school for that matter.
So what do you do? he said.
For fun you mean? Anything and everything. Her eyebrows arched behind her horn rims. Not all at once of course, she said. Even I’m not that talented. She smiled at him. She spun and stepped around the worktable as though to measure the room. Her back to him she stared out the window. So when’s this party get underway?
Oh, whenever. When it gets dark, he said. The skin looked soft on the nape of her neck. The muscles stood out at the small of her back. He said, Bonfires are more pleasing at night, huh.
Well I guess we got some time to kill, she said. Got another beer for me?
Sure, he said. He finished his bottle. He came around the worktable to where she stood. He kneeled before the wedging table and pulled open the fridge. Here you go he said and twisted off the cap and held up the beer.
Thanks, she said. She took the bottle. Her fingers touched his fingers.
He put the empties in a box beside the fridge. He rose and opened his bottle and she was close beside him. He stepped away and rattled the caps in his fist. He stared at the plaster dust ground into his knuckles. So, uh. Cam says you two’ve been going out for a couple weeks.
More like a couple months, she said.
How long’ve you