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"Very well then," she responds, her voice a touch more even. "Follow me."
The group of us trail behind Serenity like a gang of bikers on a midnight ride; our interest piqued, our nerves tingling with anticipation. We delve into the back room of Tide & Palette, where the air feels charged, heavier somehow. The lighting is dim, adding to the mysterious allure that seems to be part of this piece's charm. Then I see it. Veiled under a heavy cloth that does little to hide its grandeur. Even in the shadows, 'Kodiak King' commands attention.
Serenity approaches it with a reverence typically reserved for sacred relics. Her hands hover over the fabric before she turns to face us. “The wavers, first.”
Serenity takes a handful of papers from a nearby table and distributes them.
I read the waiver, note several phrases mentioning loss of vision, impact to short-term memory, heart arrhythmias, and permanent sexual longing, and shake my head.
“I’m out. Moose, I’m sorry, but I’m just not that desperate to see your… uh, your painting.”
“It’s OK, Alexandra. I’m going to take a few pics, so I can remember the painting. It’s been a while, I’ve almost forgotten what I looked like in the costume. If you change your mind, I’ll text them to you.”
“Sure. If I change my mind, you can text me your grizzly bear dick pics.”
The others sign the wavers and hand them over.
I head to the door leading to the gallery and turn my back.
"Please remember that I warned you," Serenity says solemnly as she pulls at the cover, allowing it to drop to the floor with a dramatic flourish.
For an immeasurable moment, everyone is silent.
Then I hear a gasp.
Then another.
Followed by a heavy thumping sound as someone faints.
Amelia's voice breaks through first, a murmur that swells to an awestruck exclamation. "Holy shit, Moose... how did you even… "
“Lube and willpower, Amelia. Lube and willpower,” Moose replies.
“Cover it up, cover it up,” Eliza says. “It's magnificent, but it's like looking into the sun."
"I never thought I'd say this," Jennifer whispers in a tone that hovers between reverence and disbelief, "but that painting might just be too powerful."
There are more sounds of rustling fabric. Followed by multiple sighs of relief.
“It’s covered. You know, I tried to warn you,” Serenity says.
I turn around and see Danielle on the floor, surrounded by the others, who are helping her to her feet. She fans herself and gives Moose a look that’s a mixture of awe and horror. “That painting changed me. Who I am now is not the same as who I was before I saw your…”
“Aleksei embellished a little. But I’m glad you liked it,” Moose says, entirely missing the mark. “We had a lot of fun.”
“I think I’ve had enough art for today,” Jennifer says. “Alexandra, is your bar open? Like, now?”
“It’s a long while till noon,” I say. “But, yeah, it’s open. We serve alcoholics at all hours.”
“I could go for a drink or two or seventeen,” Eliza says. “What liquor is best for forgetting things?”
I pause, thinking. Well, not really thinking, more like taking the moment to enjoy being the center of attention. “What are your thoughts on Jager?”
“No,” they all say, unanimously.
“Right answer,” I say. “I can mix you all up a pitcher of something that’ll erase all your memories of Moose’s massive man-thing.”
“Then it’s settled: we’re going to Alexandra’s bar, and we’re getting as plastered as humanly fucking possible,” Jennifer says.
