Free Chimera by Stephie Walls Page B

positive; she’s the personification of a sunny disposition. I’m getting out of the car in front of her studio when it becomes painfully obvious what caused the change. Standing half in the door of my car and half out, I lift my sunglasses to the top of my head to ensure my eyes aren’t playing tricks. I attempt to smile but I think I probably look more like a constipated duck. The right side of her face is black and blue. She looks like someone hit her upside the head with a two-by-four.
    In an attempt to eliminate my obvious stare, I call out, “Hey, Sera.”
    She puts her dark frames over her eyes, effectively covering a large portion of the marks, and gives me a half-hearted smile before asking me if I mind driving the three blocks over to the cafe. I’d planned to walk since parking near Main Street is virtually impossible, but if she wants to ride, I guess we’ll ride.

    A fter driving around in circles for fifteen minutes, we finally find a parking place close to the cafe. She hasn’t said anything, not a single word, but I don’t push. If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that people will talk when they’re ready to. I grab our coffee and follow her to a table on the balcony. She chooses the one on the far end, farthest away from the people mulling below us on the street. Taking a sip from her cup, she puts her elbows on the table and smiles at me, a bright smile, silently opening the door to probe, even just a little.
    Pointing toward the bruise on her face, I ask, “What happened?” I’m careful to keep my tone light as though it’s an everyday occurrence for a woman to have a huge-ass bruise covering half her face.
    Reaching up, her fingertips brush the bluish gray skin. I can’t see her eyes, but her face falls just slightly before she waves it off. “Freak accident with the kiln.”
    “Must’ve been one aggressive oven. Have you had it checked out? It looks like you took one hell of a blow.”
    “I’m all right. Just a klutz.”
    Something about the way she blows me off doesn’t sit well with me. She doesn’t offer any descriptive story or animated tale about her blunder, which makes me wonder what she’s hiding. I’ve been there. I’ve hidden pain, consciously making the choice not to discuss things, and most of the time, I was happier when people didn’t keep digging. So I don’t.
    Changing the subject, I still want to share my news with her. “Tara Winford called me today.” Her head snaps up, knocking her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose, and I see fear. Unadulterated fear. Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
    “Yeah? What’s she up to?” Her tone’s off; she isn’t asking because she’s curious, it’s as if she already knows.
    Tilting my head slightly, drawing my brow in, I respond in the same tone she just issued me. “She wants me to do an exhibit.” Watching her closely for some sort of response, I continue. “Well, not just me. She wants to showcase Kaleidoscope Dark and have a joint venture with my work and Ferry’s.”
    She gives me an obligatory smile. “That’s great, Bastian. When is it?”
    “Have you talked to Tara? You don’t act like you’re the least bit surprised.”
    “Bastian, why would I be surprised? Tara’s an entrepreneur. She makes her living finding and showcasing artistic talent. She would’ve been a fool not to snatch you up the moment you announced a completed project. I guess I’m surprised you didn’t expect it. You’ve been the talk of the town since people saw the article in the paper, and you showing up to my opening was huge. It was like you were coming of age again. You have always been the town’s Golden Boy. Your fans have missed you. I don’t know the depths of what all you have been through in the last few years, but your departure from the community left a vacancy no one has filled since. People are excited about it.”
    My thoughts drift from her unease as I think about the words coming from her