“Where do we begin?” I asked as the car made its way slowly down the streets. I could see a few folks hanging out and talking, an older gentleman who looked like the survivor of more than a few Grateful Dead shows was strumming a guitar on a porch. A lady who looked to be in her early twenties was working on a garden in her front yard.
“We can begin here.” Madeline said and handed me her tablet. There was a picture of an old Victorian home on it. “Why don’t you swipe through what we have available, and tell me what you want to see?”
I paged through, looking for something that caught my eye, not certain how any of this would work, but if I was being offered a chance to look around then I saw no reason to not keep my eyes open.
Six houses in I saw one that caught my eye. A largish art deco place, The right side looked like a tower from an old castle had been coated in white pain and plaster. The front had the mixture of curved sides and sharp angles that made for such an interesting stylistic mix. The house itself had a sort of Miami Vice paint job. With a sharp white color and highlights done in colors that started with a bright pink and then as they moved along the lines of the house turned into a strong violet color.
“Well I’d love to see this one.” I said as I read the particulars. Three beds, three baths, finished basement etc etc etc..
“I had a feeling you might like that one.” Madeline said with a sort of satisfied smile on her face.
“Why is that?” I was still taking in the feel of the village streets, we passed a bookstore and a few local eateries and pubs.
“I looked over our research on you, child of the 80’s. You mentioned a fondness for Nagel. Part of me figured you for an art deco kind of guy.”
“Speaking of your research.” I began.
Madeline picked it up from there. “I think it felt a bit intrusive.”
“Well seeing some of the stuff there was surprising, the stories I wrote under other names etc. Music I’ve released for chuckles etc.”
“I can see that, but we want to make sure the people we ask to come here are the sort who will fit our strange little town.”
“And what kind of person is that?” I asked as I saw the house from the table a bit further down the street.
“Some people create for their ego’s sake, or to show off the occasional idea. The people we are looking for create because they need to. Some folks are like generators full of buzzing energy they have to release. Some do it in violent ways, and others. Create.” She smiled at me as we pulled up the house and our driver parked us in the spacious driveway.
“Are you trying to work my ego?” I asked as we got out.
Madeline shook her head. “Simply speaking the truth.” She opened the door to the house and let me in.
The interior had a sort of cream colored look that slowly faded into a wave of sharp color growing out of it. Whoever had painted this knew fare more about color layering then I would likely ever know, the color translations seamless. I found myself lost in appreciating it.
“There is a whole house here.” Madeline said, and my head snapped up.
“Sorry, that’s just an amazing piece of work.” I said and walked through the place. Madeline and Matthew following at a discreet distance. The floor was hardwood, but with a sort of sheen and design to it that I had to pull my eyes from it. “Is that flame maple?” I asked, looking it over.
“Sharp eyes.” Matthew said.
“I’m a guitar freak, flame and quilted maple are two of my favorite woods for instrument tops.”
“Yeah I saw it first on an old Les Paul in a shop and knew I wanted to see that integrated into some construction.”
“Wait, you did this floor?” I asked.
“Yeah, I love doing designs in wood and other substances.”
“Among other things Matthew is a gifted sculptor in all manner of substances.” Madeline said and opened the door to the basement. As my estimation of Matthew shot up immensely.
The basement was done as a giant rec space. As one would expect. Couches of poured concrete with cushions built into them rode the walls. A large brick bar dominated one side of the room, and the space had plenty of room for other furniture and items. I noticed an old regulation size pool table and a pinball machine. The interior lighting was mostly led with a remote to change colors as you saw fit.
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“So what do you think?” Madeline asked.
“I think calling it amazing would be damning it with faint praise.” I said and walked upstairs, hearing two sets of footsteps behind me.
“It seems like you might have found your home.” Madeline said as I looked around and took a seat at one of the bar chairs.
“Possibly, it’s amazing and it’s beautiful, and..”
“You wonder what it will cost.” Madeline continued.
“Exactly. This is all amazing work, and none of it is the sort that comes cheap.”
“You are absolutely correct.” Matthew said with a grin. “But you’re expecting it to be about money.”
“Isn’t it always?”
“We have a different currency here. Your worth is your ability to create, and you are a find. Writer, photographer, musician, painter.” Matthew said.
“Those last two are kind of dodgy skill wise.” I said with a grin.
“Then you’ll have all the time you need to practice.” Madeline said.
“So is there like a quota or something I would have to meet? A number of pages and pictures and…” My head was spinning and I didn’t want to try standing right now.
“No, like I said, we have all faith in the world that you will create, and artists do their best work when they supply their own pressure.” Madeline replied.
“I hope you don’t mind but I need to take a walk.” I said and found my feet.
“I needed one too when they offered me a space here.” Matthew said.
“Take your time, I’ll find you when you’re ready.”
So I got out and walked, heading back toward what looked like the village center. Not even allowing my mind a lot in the way of conscious thought, just letting this whole place seep into me.
Call me hippy dippy if you will but there’s something about just the feel and energy of a place. I’ve noticed I can tell a lot about an area simply by how it makes me feel on a primal level.
And this place? The energy of it reminded me of that feeling, half an hour before the start of a rock show or any other performance. A sense of quiet expectation maybe a fever pitch to build later in the fire of a creative mind, but everything here, felt elevated.
I passed by the dook store, knowing I’d be lost forever if I walked in, and instead walked over to what looked like a pub. I passed through the door, and was taken back in time. A waft of cigar and cigarette smoke filled my nostrils and I remembered some of my first jobs working at my grans bar.
The inside was lit much like your living room. A few folks were sitting down to lunch or a pint, playing card games or talking up a storm. My presence got some looks, but I realized that I was likely one of the first new faces to be seen here in a while.
Behind the bar was a woman who looked to be in her 50’s or early sixties, dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, mouth surrounded by laugh lines, and a figure that showed abundant curves. I walked to her and looked over the taps. A lot of them were unfamiliar to me.
“I take it your new in town?” She asked.
“Yeah just came in today.” I replied.
“Well welcome, I’m Dana. I run the place. What can I get you?”
“Got a good local pilsner?”
She grinned. “I know just the thing.” She grabbed a pint glass and ran it under a tap. Then handed the full glass to me. I took a sip and smiled.
“Well if I stay here I’m pretty sure I’ll follow your suggestions, this is excellent.”
“Well let’s hope you stay here then, I live for compliments. The beer is one of the locals. Some of them got together and made a brewery and distillery. Lucky me, i get to sample their work before anyone else does.”
I tipped my glass to her. “You are truly a very lucky woman.”
“Don’t I know it. So how do I talk you into staying?”
“A little soon don’t you think? I mean I’ve complimented your sense of taste, but I could be a raging jerk past that.” I replied and took another swallow.
“You could be but I doubt, a mans face says a lot about him, and yours doesn’t have a lot of mean or angry lines to it.” She poured herself a glass of water. “I take it you think this all a bit too good to be true and you’re looking for the catch.”
I sighed deeply. “Yeah, on the nose.”
“I wish I could make that thought go away, I had it too.” She sighed. “Look the people who built this place? They have something good in mind. They're not perfect, but their hearts are in the right place.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve been here for fifteen years. The place is by and large pretty happy and people tend to settle their issues with a talk and the occasional fist fight. Nothing I’m sure you've never had to deal with.”
I chuckled. “Yeah I bounced a few bars years ago.”
“You had the look. Take my word, if it’s a choice between out there and in here? Take in here. This is a home, a place for wild souls to fill the world.”
I finished the last of my beer, took a deep breath. “Hi Madeline.” Dana said, looking past me.
“Dana!” Madeline said and reached over the bar, the two women hugged enthusiastically. “I’ll take my usual.”
Dana set to work with a couple of bottles as Madeline took the seat next to me. “I have a feeling you’ve made your mind up.”
I ran the bottom of my beer glass along the table stretching out the warm wet circle under it. “Yeah. Okay, how do we start this process?"