Gasoline
So You Tried To Put A Fire Out
“Here comes the feeling you thought you’d forgotten.” - Vampire Weekend
Something was strange that day in late summer, when Jude was standing outside in front of an easel, paint covering his hands. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to show over the horizon; like the true artist he was, Jude was trying to capture that perfect light of sunrise. In a few hours he would have to be at work, in the art supply store in town. He was saving his money to go to college; Jude wanted to be an artist, or maybe an art teacher. He didn’t have the money to pay for an education right now, but next year, he hoped to be at Rhode Island School of Design.
A truck rumbled down his street, disturbing the usually perfect morning silence. Jude looked up, paint dripping from the tip of his brush to the grass at his feet. The moving truck came to a halt in the driveway of the house across the street, which had been on the market since early spring. A dusty old BMW followed, along with a blue station wagon.
Jude tried to go back to painting, but his half-finished work no longer held the misty morning glow he had tried to capture. The sun was rising rapidly and he realized he could no longer concentrate. Those brief moments of magic before the sun rose were gone, and he would have to wait until tomorrow to finish his piece.
Across the street, a family was emerging from their cars and watching the movers transfer their boxes and furniture inside the house. There were three people: an older man with salt-and-pepper hair, a woman with short red hair, and a little boy with the same vivid red locks. A few seconds later, a teenage girl got out of the old BMW, the door creaking as she closed it. She had pale blond hair that sparkled in the sun and framed her freckled face. As she turned to examine the street, Jude noticed her huge blue-gray eyes, visible even from across the street. There was something unearthly and haunting about them – disturbing, but mesmerizing at the same time.
For a few minutes, Jude stood, watching the family move in across the street. He heard his mother waking up inside the house, beginning to make coffee and go about her daily routine. Mrs. Bonham was a third grade teacher – but since it was August, she wasn’t working. Jude’s father was an accountant who had already left for work by the time Jude got up to paint. They were good people, but they never entirely understood Jude’s creative impulses. He clung to the teenage notion that no one truly thought in the same way he did, hoping some day he would meet someone who understood him without even having to say a word.
His focus moved to the girl with brilliantly blond hair, who was now leaning on her car and sleepily watching the movers carry boxes. Her parents and brother had gone inside, but she remained outside, staring blankly into space. The air around her seemed to glow, though the sun had moved away from that magical morning state. She seemed to enchant the neighborhood with a vivid kind of light.
There was something mesmerizing about that girl, and Jude wanted to find out what it was.
Something was strange that day in late summer, when Jude was standing outside in front of an easel, paint covering his hands. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to show over the horizon; like the true artist he was, Jude was trying to capture that perfect light of sunrise. In a few hours he would have to be at work, in the art supply store in town. He was saving his money to go to college; Jude wanted to be an artist, or maybe an art teacher. He didn’t have the money to pay for an education right now, but next year, he hoped to be at Rhode Island School of Design.
A truck rumbled down his street, disturbing the usually perfect morning silence. Jude looked up, paint dripping from the tip of his brush to the grass at his feet. The moving truck came to a halt in the driveway of the house across the street, which had been on the market since early spring. A dusty old BMW followed, along with a blue station wagon.
Jude tried to go back to painting, but his half-finished work no longer held the misty morning glow he had tried to capture. The sun was rising rapidly and he realized he could no longer concentrate. Those brief moments of magic before the sun rose were gone, and he would have to wait until tomorrow to finish his piece.
Across the street, a family was emerging from their cars and watching the movers transfer their boxes and furniture inside the house. There were three people: an older man with salt-and-pepper hair, a woman with short red hair, and a little boy with the same vivid red locks. A few seconds later, a teenage girl got out of the old BMW, the door creaking as she closed it. She had pale blond hair that sparkled in the sun and framed her freckled face. As she turned to examine the street, Jude noticed her huge blue-gray eyes, visible even from across the street. There was something unearthly and haunting about them – disturbing, but mesmerizing at the same time.
For a few minutes, Jude stood, watching the family move in across the street. He heard his mother waking up inside the house, beginning to make coffee and go about her daily routine. Mrs. Bonham was a third grade teacher – but since it was August, she wasn’t working. Jude’s father was an accountant who had already left for work by the time Jude got up to paint. They were good people, but they never entirely understood Jude’s creative impulses. He clung to the teenage notion that no one truly thought in the same way he did, hoping some day he would meet someone who understood him without even having to say a word.
His focus moved to the girl with brilliantly blond hair, who was now leaning on her car and sleepily watching the movers carry boxes. Her parents and brother had gone inside, but she remained outside, staring blankly into space. The air around her seemed to glow, though the sun had moved away from that magical morning state. She seemed to enchant the neighborhood with a vivid kind of light.
There was something mesmerizing about that girl, and Jude wanted to find out what it was.