Notes from the author:
Hello reader. In parts 9, 10 and 11, I introduced Alyson Reese. The real person Alyson is based on is described as Asian, tall, shapely and blond. All of that was clearly stated on the flash drive I had accidentally procured from my old job. Read the introduction in part two for the history of the flash drive if you like. Of course I was guessing at the color of her pubic hair. Hell, I don't even know if a person with dark hair in their family background can even have blond hair, let alone blond pubic hair. According to my editor, pure blond pubic hair is just an urban myth and exists only in Japanese animated porn. I know I can go on line and get all the facts on pubic hair, but I like the idea of Alyson Reese being blond allover, so I'm sticking to the myth.
Speaking of my editor... he's been dogging me to pare down my chapters again. He thought the Alyson Reese golf course scene gratuitous and that it meandered too far from Gwen Yoshimura, the principal star. The little story came together from a hand full of email corespondents on the flash drive between Alyson and a friend. No way I was going to leave it out.
Enough pointless notes. Enjoy the story.
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Chapter 54 Visits From Queen of the Nile and Goddess of the Sea
Alyson Reese, Aly to her friends, Asian, naturally blond, impossibly tall, genetic scientist and reluctant former beauty queen, changed the dynamics of the group. The anthropology and biology buildings were right next door to each other on campus making it easy for Aly and Hawk to hook up on a daily bases. Naturally, everyone assumed that they were a couple and since they were academic equals, there was no stigma connected to the relationship. Of course I didn't like it at first, but at the same time it was kind of a relief. I always worried Hawk could get fired for dating a student, even though I'm a graduate. Matt and I are seen together more often than Hawk and I, so everyone assumed we were a couple too. The only people who knew the truth about the group thing was Paul Gleason and Meka Okuda.
Anyway, the moment Matt was done with a class, he'd head my way. He really enjoyed showing his affection for me in public, and to be honest, I dug it too. Matt is loving and silly, opposite Hawk, who is always so manly and reserved.
Matt did have a moody side though, and it manifested when he was working on a story. As an artist, I TOTALLY understood that side of him. Occasionally, we would get together in my studio, he would write and I would paint. Usually, I don't like company when I'm painting, but sometimes it was nice having someone like minded to brood with. But mostly, Matt gives doubly spectacular head when he's brooding. I can't say why but I'm not knocking it. Aly learned that about him too and has taken to inviting him over to her place when he's in the mood to write. Lucky for me, Matt seemed to like writing in my grubby little studio more.
When the four of us got together off campus I'd hang off of whichever lover I wished. Aly particularly liked having both guys draped on her. I kind of liked that too but was never totally comfortable doing it in public. And sometimes it was tough sharing the guy's affections with her in view of others. In private, though I have no problem whatsoever. No way I could I have done this with my old friend Betty.
My head returned to the here and now, it was Friday and my bimonthly portfolio review had just ended. As I packed away my portfolio, I marveled at how well it had gone considering I didn't show a single painting, which was ironic, because I was in the middle of a very productive period. But no way was I going to show my nudes to the review board. Not with Erma Beaumont still in the mix.
In desperation, I had submitted a stack of old charcoal and pencil drawings. The review board accepted my return to basics spiel, but I knew this was a one-time thing, and with the next review, I had better have paintings to show. Erma Beaumont, my neglected mentor and adviser, had sat silent throughout the review, offering no words of encouragement, or even discouragement for that matter. Her silence was a little unnerving, but I was glad for it. Apparently, Beaumont's heart was already in San Francisco thinking about her up coming one woman show. Near the end of the review, I offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Wahinelani my forest goddess on Maui.
How did I go from a secular, non practicing Shinto to a an idol worshiping pagan?
Den Kang, head of figure drawing and painting was the last to leave. I've been meaning to talk to him about something big for a while. I decided that now was the time. "Professor Kang? May I have a word?" I asked.
"Is it about why you holding back your figure paintings from the review board?" He asked in his usual gruff fashion, his heavy local accent added a stern edge that made me cringe.
My jaw dropped. Aside from that one time when I audited his class a while back, there was no way he could have known I've been painting nudes, but apparently he did. I didn't know what to say.
"No worries," he said, "Your secret safe with me, but this review was big waste of time."
My cheeks turned red that he had seen through my ruse so easily, but I was also touched that he had kept it to himself. I was about to ask how he knew I was painting figures, but decided not to bother and went right to what I wanted to talk to him about. With a lump in my throat, I asked, "Will you be my adviser?"
He gave me a leveled look. "What about Erma?"
"We don't see eye to eye lately," I said, dropping my gaze, unable to look into his stern eyes.
"Very unusual to make this kind big change so late," he said.
I could hear the disapproval in his voice. I looked up, ready to apologize for showing such disloyalty toward Erma, but Professor Kang spoke on.
"The review board will not look on this with favor. Make you look flighty, indecisive."
I nodded, agreeing that it would put me in a bad spot. Kang went on.
"I go talk to the head of the portfolio review and put in a good word. I do my best make your case."
My eyes dropped again and my heart sank. The head of the review was Erma Beaumont. I was about to tell him not to bother, but he kept talking.
"Erma's big show coming up. Last week she step down and they picked new head."
I looked up in surprise and then nearly gasped when I saw that Professor Kang was doing something I had never seen him do in all the years I've known him ... he was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"I new head of review," he said. The grin disappeared like it never happened. "I your adviser now. Next time you show paintings, or I march you out! Understand!" His words were stern but his eyes still showed the Cheshire grin. He gave a little nod, hefted up his shoulder bag and left.
I stood with my jaw hanging open in shock and awe. "Fucking unbelievable," I said aloud. And for the second time today, I offered thanks to my goddess. Now all I had to do was inform Erma. I debated if I should talk to her face to face or shoot her an email. A cowardly email sounded much more appealing at the moment.
I kicked the door of my studio open and dumped my portfolio in a corner. Sitting on my easel was a portrait of Matt done in the style of Vincent Van Gogh, the first non-nude I had done since I started in on painting portraits. I did the painting in an hour at Aly's house. We were all sitting at Aly's landlord's pool deck drinking beer and there sat Matt with his bearded chin in hand reading a book. It made me think of Van Gogh's Portrait of Dr. Gachet and I just had to paint him. In place of the old Doctor's white hat, Matt is wearing a Cleveland Indians baseball cap and a green t-shirt with the Heineken logo on the front. In the painting, like the Van Gogh original, Matt is resting his chin in his hand with the elbow propped on the table, looking out at the viewer. In Van Gogh's painting, the figure has some kind of flower resting on the table, in my painting Matt has a Budweiser and a paperback book laying open face down before him.
As I looked at the painting, a state of panic gripped me. Insanely, I had accepted the China Cup show slot come next April.
That's not enough time! My artistic brain screamed at me. To add to my anxiety, I just found out from Meka the other day that Erma Beaumont was the artist I was replacing at the China Cup. Getting a show at the Cup was no small thing. The waiting list was years long. Meka told me the owner was livid when Beaumont jilted him. The guy was her number one fan and has bought scores of her paintings over the years. He was so pissed that he loved the idea of giving her spot to one of her defecting students. I suspect the idea was planted in his head by Meka.
Impulsively, I pulled out my resent nudes to judge them worthy, but more to the point, did I have the guts to show them in public? A knock came at my door. It was a quiet knock, but in my hyper state it sounded like a bomb going off. My heart rate doubled as I hastily, threw a large piece of craft paper over Matt's portrait and returned the nudes to the rack just in case it was a member of the portfolio committee. Then a horrible thought occurred to me, Professor Kang had let Erma know I was dumping her as my adviser.
"Fuck! I should have kept my big mouth shut!" I said in a panicked whisper.
I was positive Erma was standing outside my door ready to lay in on me for my defection to the figurative. And worse! She knew I was taking her spot at the China Cup and came to tell me how unworthy I am on top of my disloyalty.
"Cool your jets girl!" I said aloud. I took a deep breath to calm myself.
