Earlier chapters

by Mike Schwarcz, text and art

At the airport, walking toward the jet stairs, Miguel gathered Cece and Sara into a huddle.
"Let's not talk about the people or events on this trip while we're in the air; the walls may have ears," he cautioned.
Sara scoffed. His sternest look got a nod from her. Cece agreed.
"The fireworks should start soon," said Cece.
"Maybe we'll see the fireworks for the whole East Coast as we fly over, what a concept," Sara marveled.
Indeed, they caught a beautiful display of American independence; for about thirty seconds. Then the cloud cover diffused them before erasing them completely as they gained altitude. Landing a little past eleven p.m., Santa Fe time, the Uber dropped Miguel and Sara off before taking Cece home. Everyone was glad to be back in Santa Fe.

The next day, each of them received a notice from the East Hampton Police informing them of a missing person report being filed and that an investigation was now open for Rachel Spiers. East Hampton's detectives made Zoom calls seeking any relevant information to solve the case. All Miguel could offer was that he had seen Hayden Rookwood with Rachel on the beach before the clam bake.

In Santa Fe, the La Peralta crew had made the studio space manageable by dividing it into three separate areas. The storage area was finished, but they were still wrapping up Cece's office, the kitchen/break area, and a makeshift reception desk, leaving Miguel and Cece with much to do and nowhere to do it. Marcus had installed the large wall easel Miguel had wanted, and there was enough free space to paint, but the noise and dust were a distraction. He groused about every time he went there; finally, he threw down the gauntlet to Roger.
"Aisha wants fifty paintings from me ASAP, and I can't concentrate in my studio," he lamented.
"The framing and drywall are finished. The painters are coming tomorrow, they don't make much noise. After that, it's only carpeting and furnishings to finish it up," said Roger.
"How soon?" Miguel asked.
"I'd say Friday for sure, there's nothing noisy left to do though."
"One more week? Okay, I'll do my best to cope," Miguel said.
Miguel called Cece to update her. "Hi, Roger thinks they will be done here by Friday."
"Stay on top of him. It's on you to keep everything on point while I'm in New York, Miguel. Aisha suggested I'm going to be gone for thirty to forty-five days," said Cece.
"When are you leaving?" he asked.
"Not sure, but I have a feeling it's going to be soon," said Cece.
"Well, have fun. Nothing like another vacation because the last vacation didn't feel at all like a vacation," said Miguel before hanging up.

"Screw it, I'm taking the weekend off," Miguel announced to Roger, "Knock yourself out around here, you have my number if you need me."
He would have headed home since relations with Sara were improving somewhat; at least they were talking to each other. But today Sara had showings all day. He knew Ron was dying to hear about New York and the Hamptons, so Miguel sent him an invite to come by for a beer and some darts this afternoon.

"Boy, you were the talk of the town last week," was the first thing out of his mouth when Miguel answered the door at three p.m.
"Finally famous at the Railyard, huh? My phone has been off the hook also, believe me," Miguel joked.
"I caught the Good Morning America segment; You were great. The local news here played that clip all week after the reports about Rachel's disappearance came out. You were big news," Ron said.
"Yeah, that part I can do without." Miguel opened the fridge, grabbed a couple of beers, and headed to the back patio.
"So, how was the East Coast? Not that I miss it," Ron asked.
"Aside from the experience of flying private? New York was deserted, and Rachel's disappearance threw a big wet blanket on the Hamptons; that's it in a nutshell." Miguel said.
"Too bad, things have been happening around here, though. Remember, La Peralta had applied for preliminary approval from the planning commission?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, I do. Has that happened yet?" Miguel asked.
"Yes, and they were approved," said Ron.
Good, we're on their team, we want them to succeed," said Miguel.
"Your temp studio may be very temp. I took a peek at the plans while I was at the building department. The project has been changed from new construction to a major remodel of existing buildings. The good news is completion is projected to be in three to six months now." Ron said.
"I can live with that. I have months of work ahead of me to do fifty paintings. And speaking of that, I'm at a total loss as to what I should be painting," Miguel added sheepishly.
The front door opened and closed, Sara was home early. She poured a glass of wine and joined them.
"Ron was telling me the plans for the SpACE gallery project were approved by the city. It could be done in as little as three months. It's more of a remodel now," Miguel said.
"Okay, one step at a time, right? Still nothing on Rachel?" Sara asked.
"Nothing."
"Today's the eighth. She disappeared on the third. That's five days without a single clue? That's some police force," Sara exhaled.
Ron jumped in. "You know, I'm from New York. I don't know about this specific police chief you mentioned, but I can tell you that Suffolk County, which covers the eastern two-thirds of Long Island, is notoriously inept. Do the Gilgo Beach murders ring a bell?
"The hookers that nobody cared about? The cases the DA called misdemeanor murders, right?" Sara had watched that story unfold on the news.
"Correct. Then, ten years later, a new DA stepped in, searching the nearby marshes. They found all kinds of body parts and corpses. They believe the guy they finally caught operated undetected for ten years. My point is there's also a lot of marshes around East Hampton, and getting the police to search them would cost a fortune, in both money and manpower," Ron pointed out.
"I get your point, but at the same time, I don't want my name associated with a missing girl in the Hamptons for the rest of my life," said Miguel, a simmering resentment in his voice.
"Does anyone know if Rachel has any relatives? Would it be possible to find them based on her driver's license info?" Sara asked.
"The FBI background check reveals all, that's where they usually start," said Ron.
Miguel got two more beers out of the fridge.

"It's been an interesting few months. Since I met Aisha, I've signed with SPACE Gallery, sold fifty paintings, moved into a new studio, flown private, not once, but three times, been on national TV, visited New York City, and the Hamptons. To top it off, I'm currently involved in a missing person investigation that has no end in sight," Miguel said. "I was promised some lubricated lifestyle where the grunt work would be handled, but it doesn't seem to be turning out that way," he lamented.
"Hear you, Bro, they sound like total slave drivers," Ron sounded a little sarcastic.
"You would think that was bad enough," Miguel continued.
"What else?" Ron asked.
"I have no idea what I should be painting. My entire inventory consists of small watercolors of Santa Fe and a few abstract oils that hang in my house, which aren't for sale. That isn't going to cut it." Miguel finished his beer.
"I can see your point," said Ron.
"Didn't Aisha say something about you getting proper guidance at the dinner we had?" Sara asked. Miguel ignored her.
"How about Cece? She's your handler, isn't she?" Ron asked.
"She's flying back to New York for training any day. I'd like to hear what she thinks of the exhibits at SpACE New York when she gets back, but until then, I doubt she has any more ideas than I do."
"Aisha?"
"Instilling a crisis of confidence in her is a bad idea. No thanks."
"I guess you've considered all the angles," Ron said.
"Of course, but answers are elusive. Once I rule everything out, I'm left with nothing," Miguel said
"How so?"
"For starters? No hook, no theme, no style. I got nothing," Miguel lamented.
"Being original isn't easy. Like Picasso said, ‘There's nothing new under the sun," Ron remarked.

Miguel's face contorted in pain. He had run through the gamut of choices a million times. Each time with the same result, nothing new to see here.
Part of me wants to paint different subjects in different styles, and then let them select which direction would be best to take. But that seems pathetically weak. What they will be looking for is a cohesive collection, not a hodgepodge that adds up to nothing.
"Why don't you try a few of your ideas out on me? I have an art degree, and, trust me, I'd be happy to be brutally honest with you," Ron coaxed.
"Okay, The first idea is an abstract expressionist style with glimpses of realism visible through gaps and/or in any negative space, representing a merger of the 1950s and 1970s. Another idea is to incorporate headshots and portraiture using sfumato and glazing techniques. They would be very sexy; sexy sells.
"I like both ideas conceptually. Why don't you do a couple of studies?"
"Sfumato and glazing take ages. I'm thinking, for a start, an abstract expressionist piece with a modern twist. Think Ann Piché meets Da Vinci" Miguel said.
"An original enough concept to merit some effort." Ron nodded.
"Roger says the workers will be out of the studio on Friday, so I'm going to paint one over the weekend," Miguel said.
Flying blind, with a boss to please for the first time in his adult life. Miguel decided his only choice was to step over the edge and paint the first painting. One step at a time, one step at a time, he kept repeating.

Questionnaire on the story

To be continued

**************

Discover Lokkal: Mission

Visit SMA's Social Network

Contact / Contactar