Page 8 of Alive and Kicking
Viviana
Two weeks later, I’m still thinking about how hot it was when Cain spanked my ass in front of all the guys. Zane is still having issues with it though, and he continues to be extra vigilant whenever Cain and I are in the same room. I’m pretty sure he’s started filling my days with things to do just to keep him away from me.
Last week, he woke me up at dawn to go with him to collect sap from the pine trees in their yard. He used a special tool to scrape off the bark and had me staple plastic bags to the side of the tree under the missing pieces. Every day after that, he’s taken me out there to score marks into the bare tree for the sap to drip from. Today he woke me at the same time, and now we’re each carrying a bucket that we poured the plastic bags out into. We stop at the blue shed in the backyard and I look around, admiring the view. I never realized how much land their house sits on before, but there’s at least three acres full of pine trees behind the house.
Zane sets his bucket down beside him and pulls a small key ring from his pocket. After he turns it in the lock, he grabs his bucket and pushes into the shed, holding the door open for me to follow behind him.
The overwhelming scent of turpentine is the first thing I notice when I walk in. The second thing I notice is all the color. There’s paint everywhere. From on the walls to the stacks of canvases propped against the far wall, it’s a mess of paint and art. This is more like what I was expecting to find in Zane’s room. On an easel in the center of the room there’s a painting of a couple. I narrow my eyes at it and raise my brows. “Is that a painting of me fucking Sloane?” It is. It’s literally a painting of Sloane taking me from behind, like he had the time Zane caught us on Christmas.
Zane shrugs. “His birthday is in a few months, but I wanted to make sure it was finished by then. It’s really hard to paint with a raging boner so it’s been a slow process.”
I freeze. “Are birthdays something you guys celebrate?” I ask, realizing that I have no idea when any of their birthdays are, besides Cain’s. Birthdays are just something I try not to think about.
“We don’t do anything big. The birthday person picks what we have for dinner and we give them gifts,” he explains.
I nod, understanding that. “Okay. I can handle that. For future reference, I want you to pretend like my birthday doesn’t exist. I can celebrate you guys on your birthdays, but mine is off limits.”
Zane’s lips roll in and he nods his head. “That’s fine. We wouldn’t force something like that on you.”
He walks over to a corner, where there’s a single burner and a disassembled distillery on one side of a long table, a large metal sink at the end of it. He picks up a big pot and sets in on the burner.
“Are we making moonshine?” I ask, looking at the sill.
Zane laughs, “No. I promised to show you how I make turpentine. Why else do you think we’ve been cutting up trees all week?”
I shrug, looking into my bucket. The liquid is white and milky, and it’s thicker than I thought sap would be. “I figured you just like cutting things.”
He pauses before looking over his shoulder at me with a smirk. “Well, that’s true too. I figured it would be fun to do it together.”
He pours his bucket into the pot before looking over at me expectantly. I walk over and dump my bucket in as well, and now there’s probably about two gallons of liquid in the large pot. He grins at me before putting a lid on top and turning on the burner. “This is going to take all day, so I don’t expect you to be out here the whole time. I know you’ve got to make your final selections today.”
I frown, since I was hoping to forget about it. I already know what my decisions are, but I just know most of the family won’t like all my choices. The Sit Down is in just four more days, and the guys and I will be leaving in two. “I’ll stay for as long as I can. I’ve got Nox looking into some things for me before I make any more choices.”
Zane smiles brightly at that. “Great. What I’m doing now is just heating up the sap. Making sure it’s nice and hot will make it easier to strain it to be sure there’s nothing in it when we put it through the still.” I nod as I watch him set out the pot for the still with a mesh strainer over the opening.
I jump from foot to foot as he uses a large metal stick to stir the sap before replacing the lid. My nose wrinkles at the smell and Zane gives me a sympathetic look. “Can you open the windows for me? I’m going to start putting the still together while we wait for the sap to simmer.”
There are three windows in the medium sized shed, and I skip over to open each of them. When I saw the shed in the backyard for the first time, I’d assumed they kept yard equipment in it. I didn’t realize that this was Zane’s art studio.“Don’t you get hot in here in the summer?” I ask, leaning against the table next to him.
It’s early now, but it does get hot here in the afternoon. Zane shrugs. “I don’t mind. It’s peaceful out here. Plus, I can listen to loud music and scream at my paint all I want without the guys complaining.” I smile at that because that’s something I could see Zane doing. “It’s ready,” he says, looking down into the pot.
He turns the burner off and tugs on a thick pair of long gloves that look like they’re probably fireproof. Then picks up the heavy pot, making me bite my bottom lip as I watch him carry it over to the table where he slowly pours the sap through the strainer and into the big pot of the still.
When it’s empty, he places it into the large sink, pulling off the strainer and shaking it from side to side to make sure all the liquid got through. He shakes out any debris into the trash before placing it back in the sink, then he turns to me with a grin on his face. “This is when the real magic happens.”
I’m suddenly worried he’ll start shouting magic words to see if they do anything, but instead he just sets the bottom of the still onto the burner. Then he carefully puts the entire thing together. He checks each seal at least three times before moving on to the next part, his movements all very practiced and precise. I can tell he’s been doing this for a while. When he steps back with a firm nod and his arms crossed over his chest, I know it’s set up to his satisfaction. He grabs a large jar and holds it out to me.
Slowly, I reach forward and accept it, and when I take it his hands land on my shoulders. “Just place it right there under that spout.” He points to a little tube that pokes out of the tall cylinder he’s filled with water.
I take a few steps forward and crouch down to place the jar under the spout. “Like that?” I ask, just to make sure.
“Perfect. Now I’ve just got to turn on the burner again and then we wait for it to finish. It’ll take most of the day.”
I smile at him and glance around his space with a keener eye. “Why don’t you give me a tour before I have to meet up with Nox?”
I feel antsy and excited. I haven’t really been able to see much of Zane’s artwork, besides some suggestive doodles he’s made in the margins of the books he picks out for me. I haven't seen any of his art besides that and the painting Sandy and I stumbled upon during welcome week. He hasn’t wanted to show me the rest of his art before. He’s been pretty close lipped about it until now and I figured it was just something he wasn’t comfortable with sharing with me yet. “Sure! That sounds like fun!”
He takes me around the space and shows me most of his canvases, starting with the older ones. There are a few he doesn’t show me, which I don’t question because I figure they must be personal. But I take interest in quite a few more splatter paintings. These ones are not for public consumption; done with a white background with red splatters. The one I like the most is a smaller eight by eight canvas, the background so detailed it looks like a crumpled blue tarp. There is even a slightly rusted rivulet showing in one corner of the painting. And there’s a puddle of red that stops just shy of the edge of the tarp, where a few grass stalks spring up higher.
