33. Levi
THIRTY-THREE
Levi
“Are you sure about this?” I ask as Ethan and I add the last of the paintings to the huge pile.
I don’t know why I ask it. I know that he’s sure. We spent all day building the fire ring out here in the meadow and gathering the supplies.
But as hard as it is to see the paintings amassed like this, like a kaleidoscope of pain, it’s also hard to imagine such powerful artwork being destroyed. Ethan is really, really good. These would make him famous.
But then… he already gets more attention than he wants. And the focus would be on the dark subject as much as on his talent. I know he doesn’t want that. I know it wouldn’t be good for him. I know that no one can see these. But still.
He says, “I want to let it go. I want to paint other things.”
My focus shifts fully to him. His jeans and T-shirt are dirty from our work, but something about that looks cleaner than the fanciest clothes I’ve seen him wear. He looks calm. Certain.
And he’s right. This needs to be done.
“You have an idea?” I ask.
“I’ve been gathering things for a new painting.”
“A self-portrait?”
“No.”
“What is it?”
The corner of his mouth tugs. “You’ll see. But I need to clear all of this out first. It’s cluttering my mind. I want it gone.”
I nod, even though I know it will never be truly gone. But it can stop being a focus. That’s the point of this.
Ethan picks up the lighter fluid and squirts some over the paintings and the kindling. Then he picks up the matches. He stares at the box for a while, then he hands it to me.
“Will you do it for me?”
I get out a match and strike it. Despite the rightness of this, I’m still slightly sick at the idea of destroying such masterful artwork, but Ethan needs me to be vicious for a second—so I toss the match.
The painting of his face, half torn away, a hand in his hair, bursts into flame. The fire quickly spreads through the pile, igniting everything. The paint bubbles, and the flames burn with traces of green and blue as they eat through the canvases before bursting up in bright yellow, climbing high.
After the initial burst, the fire settles down, and once there’s nothing to save, it’s easier to watch it all burn. Ethan and I sit in the grass. I’m between his legs, leaning back against him.
“We should’ve brought marshmallows,” I say.
He huffs a surprised laugh and nuzzles my hair. He sighs and relaxes against me.
As the fire burns down, we toss a few logs onto it, letting it be a different kind of fire. The sky darkens. It’s so beautiful out here, away from the city and its lights. There are so many stars.
Ethan says, “Maybe we can start the new painting tomorrow.”
“We?”
“We.”
“In the cellar?” I try not to let discomfort color my tone. If that’s where he needs to go, I’ll go there with him.
But he says, “No. There’s another room that I originally wanted as a studio. I want to work there. With you.”
I smile. “I’d like that.”
Ethan adds, “Since it doesn’t look like we’ll have to run.”
I gaze up at the sky. “I almost wanted to, you know. I would love to see other places.”
“We can still do that.”
“Would you want to?” I ask. “Travel?”
“With you? Absolutely.”
“Where should we go?”
He nuzzles my hair. “Anywhere. You pick. I don’t care as long as it’s together.”
“Mmm,” I hum, relaxing against him and imagining all the possibilities.