Chicago Stories: West of Western (28 page)

“Ahh,” she said. “Mmm.” The others didn't move, just sat there looking like some kind of pathetic supplicants at the altar. Nika had to be kidding. Dom's eyes were huge. Seraphy felt herself cringe. “You don't mean right now?”

Dom flushed even redder. “Of course not. I'm sorry,” he mumbled, glaring at Nika. He pushed her arm off his shoulders. “Nika has no manners. I'm not trying to get free advice, Seraphy, please don't think that. You . . . uh, please.” He looked around like a trapped teddy bear. Seraphy fought an inexplicable desire to hug him. “Don't feel you have to help me just because Nika dragged you over here. I'm so embarrassed. You must think we're horrible.” He pulled his turtleneck shirt up over his mouth.

“It's all right, Dom, I don't think that. Not at all.” Damn, the man had no insulation. Happy or intrigued or amused, you knew it, and when despair hit, he went straight to the depths. Oh, hell. She contemplated five or nine painful ways to kill Nika once they were out of there.

“I simply don't want you to feel dragooned into anything. We might have very different ideas of what's good.” There. She'd given Dom a way out.

“I don't think so.” Nika wasn't giving up. “Look, Seraphy, I know this sucks, but could you just give Dom a quick idea of what you could do? I mean, something he could afford, like a five minute sketch?”

Shit. Dom was looking at her with that pilgrim-to-Lourdes look. Not a wimpy pilgrim, though. He had some strength under the anxiety. Her heart sank. She ran a hand over her face and thought fast. Okay. She'd do a quick overview, scare the bejesus out of him and run like hell.

“Okay, okay. If it's all right, I'll just talk it through. Give me a minute.”

Motioning them to stay at the door, Seraphy walked slowly around the perimeter of the studio, away from Dom's peculiar energy, buying time to think. They waited, watching her stop and start and mumble to herself. Against her will, she knew she'd enjoy working with Dom, bringing his condo into compliance without changing its essential character. Too bad she didn't have the time.

“Okay, from here you can see the whole condo,” she said when she ended up back at the door, not looking at the painter. Ready to escape, her words came fast. “Dom, what I'd try is to do as little as possible. Make everything legal, but keep the look and feel of the studio as it is now.”

Dom sat up straight, a first tentative hope dawning in his dark eyes. She glanced at him, felt his hope hit her, and wished he wouldn't look at her like that. She edged further away. She'd slap him with the truth.

“First the bad news. You have to rewire the whole place—you can leave the conduit exposed, but it has to be conduit and it has to be up to code.” She stopped and wiped her hand across her forehead, gesturing around at the extension cord swags and shaking her head.

Dom looked alarmed, then sad, and she caved. How could she slap a wounded teddy bear? “I think I could find someone licensed that you could afford for that, and he might let you pay it off a month at a time.” Shit, her brother Vittorio was going to throttle her. “Would that be acceptable?”

“Of course,” he said, his face lighting at her words. She could see him start to visualize what good lighting would mean. “Can I get really good lights, daylight spectrum lights?”

They exchanged grins.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Either incandescent or daylight spectrum fluorescents, which might be good for painting. Halogens are too hot. Next, you need plumbing that's up to code. I suspect the whole building should be done at once, at least the main drains and supply lines.”

Dom sucked in his breath. “That sounds expensive.”

“Not as much as you might think, if the other tenants are handy. Plumbing is one thing you can probably do yourself if you follow the drawings and instructions I'll give you. It mostly goes together like Tinker Toys and nobody kills themselves on those. Again, you can leave everything exposed in the kitchen, the inspectors actually like that. You might even want to provide for a dishwasher and washer and dryer, though, to give you more time to paint.” Dom looked at the kitchen, his eyes half-shut, visualizing the wall and the design that would be made by the new pipes against the brick.

“Copper supply lines? And I like that white pipe. Could I use that white pipe?”

“Sure, for the drains. Copper for supply lines.”

Nika laughed at the change in the painter. “You wouldn't have to drag your laundry over to my place.”

“Finally, the bathroom. The city won't let you leave that open.” She risked a glance at Dom. “How do you feel about glass block walls? White tile floor, bathtub, separate glass-walled shower, sink, toilet? I've got some lighting, high intensity lights on wires so fine they're practically invisible, they look like stars at night. The daylight you have now wouldn't change much and the sun would shine right through the glass block. Rainbow effects, too. Very industrial, very cool. And, I could put a work sink in next to it.”

“Could I get a skylight over the bathroom? Not now, of course,” Dom said. His eyes were out of focus, visualizing his new space. He seemed to be glowing from some inner light.

Nika stared at him.

“But later, of course, if I sell a big painting?” He licked his lips. Nika's mouth fell open. Seraphy barely kept her laughter contained. This was the man who wanted no changes?

“Yuppie bastard,” said Nika. “Who knew?”

Dom jumped down from his stool and reached for Seraphy's hand. His touch sent an electric shock through her skin, she felt blood surging through her body. She shied away, thinking he was going to kiss her hand, but he held on gently and looked into her eyes. His hands were warm.

“You have saved my life. This is the studio of my heart.”

“Thanks, but you understand, I don't have a lot of time,” she said hurriedly, her cheeks hot, pulling her hand free and trying to tear her eyes from his. She stepped back.

“I'll give you the specs, but you'll have to do a lot of it yourself,” she said, the words tumbling out. “I have to work at my real job, I've got Nika's studio to do, and I just moved here myself a week ago last Saturday.” She realized she was babbling.

“I understand,” Dom dropped her hand. “Perhaps it would be better if I come to your work and hire you officially?” His voice was formal now, one eyebrow raised to question.

“You could, and I know you'd like them. Jerrod & Etwin, over on Elston.” Suddenly she didn't want to distance this man. “But with their overhead, the fees would be a lot higher,” she said, trying to keep her voice cool and professional. “I'm assuming you do want to do as much of the work yourself as you can?”

“Peter and I are the only ones with steady incomes,” said Nika.

“Understood.”

Dom was humming softly.

“So, what you need is just the plans and drawings for your permits.” Seraphy said. “Then to clear the permits, we'll have the job inspected and not talk about how the work gets done.”

Dom nodded.

She had an idea. “For my fees, would you be open to trade?” She was probably going to be sorry she offered. Dom probably painted flowers. Or clowns. Oh, well, she could always stick the painting in the garage if it was really bad. Or give it to Tony.

“You have to ask?” Dom relaxed, smiling. His whole body pantomimed his relief.

Nicky gasped, straightened on her stool and chortled as if she knew something Seraphy didn't. Dom looked at her and shook his head.

“Quiet, Nika.”

“Dom,” said Nika, but he motioned her to be quiet.

“Can I look?” Seraphy asked.

Dom nodded and pointed to the far corner of the loft. He kept the paintings on easels draped in plastic and she had no idea what they looked like. He waved her toward a vertical storage unit that held finished work and frowned at Nika, whose shoulders were shaking with repressed laughter. Seraphy looked at Nika, wondering what was so funny, and shrugged. Private joke, apparently. She walked over to the storage unit and pulled out the first canvas.

And it exploded in her mind. A landscape saturated in greens, yellows and blues, descended from early Kandinsky landscapes and Franz Marc horses? Dom mixed pre-WW II expressionist technique with current Chicago reality to create a Chicago with a magnetism born of intensity. She recognized the used car lot on Western, here transformed into a magical scene of brilliant yellow signs, scarlet banners, deep red and blue vehicles, insanely green trees. The play lot in Humboldt park. The lagoon in summer, with the geese. She shivered as she gazed, a spark ran down her backbone and the hair on her arms stood at attention.

Holy shit. Trade? Oh, yeah, she'd trade. She'd design Dom any God-damned thing he wanted. Whole fucking city if he wanted. This was no amateur work, couldn't be. Why hadn't she heard of him before?

While she gorged herself on the feast of color, Nika and Dom gossiped in the kitchen.

“Do you smell smoke?” Dominic sniffed. “I think it's coming from your place.” He ran over to the high window overlooking Nika's back yard, glanced out and turned to her.

“Nika, is Peter home? There's smoke coming out from your garage. Call 911.”

Chapter 25

When they reached
the alley they discovered six-foot flames shooting from a black garbage toter against the wall of Nika's garage. Smoke welled from the soffit under the roof and the gray vinyl siding below was buckling and sagging from the heat, exposing the old wood underneath to the flames.

“That's a gasoline fire,” Seraphy yelled, “I can smell it, and trash doesn't burn like that. Is your van in there?

“No, it's out front.”

“Arson, looks like they started it in the toter,” Dom called over his shoulder as he ran to the other side of the garage, where more flames licked out from under the eaves.

“Fucking hell!” Nika shouted when they reached the source of the fire. “Damned toter's feeding the fire. Can you and Dom get it away from the building? There're rakes and stuff in the garage. I'll get a hose. Here's the keys, door's on the side.” Nika threw her keys to Seraphy, who sorted through them for one that fit while Nika ran on to the basement. Dom came around the garage and tried to get close enough to the blazing toter to kick it away from the wall.

Dom forced the garage door halfway up. “This way. We've got to get that damned thing away from the building.” He ducked under the door, grabbed a rake, and barely managed to scramble back out before a blast of heat and flame shot out of the doorway behind him. Dom poked at the blazing cart, but the fire-softened the plastic absorbed the jabs without moving.

“Too soft, won't budge. I need something with a wider end.”

“Dammit, where's Nika with that damned hose?” Even the wide end of the patio broom Seraphy wielded disappeared into the softened plastic.

“Let it go,” Dom pulled her away from the flames. “Garage's gone now anyway. These old frame buildings go up like torches. Where's the damned fire truck?”

“There's the siren.”

By the time Nika dragged her garden hose out to the garage, the fire truck arrived and the three were pushed aside to watch the professionals work. Pressure hoses and expertise had the fire out in minutes, but the garage was totaled. The roof had caved in, two walls were half-gone, and what was left was drowned in sooty water.

“Good thing I paid the insurance last week,” Nika said, as the three watched the firemen pack their equipment. She took a deep breath. “I couldn't get the damned door to work right this morning and had to force it open to get the van out, so I parked out in front. I was going to let Peter put it away when he got home.” She looked sick. “I have my paintings in there while we work on the attic. They were in the garage yesterday.” Dom put his arm around his friend, saw the black marks left by his sooty shirt, and backed off.

“Well, Seraphy, you can't say we're boring.”

“True.” Seraphy looked at Nika, then at Dom and back down at herself. Nika's once-white shirt was grubby, her blond hair ashy. Rivers of sweat made channels through the soot on Dom's face and dripped from his chin to make tracks down his grimy shirt.

“Do I look as bad as you two? More soot on us than on the garage.” Seraphy glanced around. ”You know what's strange? Where is everybody?”

Except for the firemen packing up their equipment and themselves, the alley was empty. Nika looked away from the ruins and shrugged. “That's weird. I know there were people in the yard over there earlier. You'd think they would've stuck around for the excitement.”

“Who's the owner here?” The fire captain looked impatient to be off. Seraphy heard sirens in the distance. Nika raised her hand.

“Your fire was set in the garbage container, probably with gasoline as the accelerant,” he said, keeping one eye on his men as they loaded the truck. “It's out now and we have to go, got another call.”

“Thanks for being so prompt.”

“Our job. Must be something going on over here, gangs, probably.” He frowned, looking around for the crowd a fire truck usually drew. “This is the third garage fire today west of Western. We just finished a call over on Haddon, same thing, garage fire. And, no sightseers there, either. You folks fighting with the local gangs?”

“Not us. You think it was the Lobos or the Duques?” Nika asked.

“Either or both,” the captain said, nodding at the men waiting by the loaded truck. “Some kind of message, maybe. Explains folks making themselves scarce. Okay, I'll turn all of the info and pictures over to the arson investigator and he'll be giving you a call. We shoved the remains of the toter over by the edge of the garage, leave everything until he gets a look. If you need a copy of the official report for insurance, call the number on the form after tomorrow.” He handed Nika a paper and was halfway to his truck before he finished speaking.

“Great. We'll probably all get our insurance cancelled,” Nika said after the fire truck left. She looked over the damage, air hissing through her teeth, muttering to herself. Seraphy and Dom followed her around the remains of the building.

“It's not as bad as it looks, Nika,” Seraphy said, trying to comfort her. “There are specialist garage builders who can handle the demo and rebuild, and some of them even bill your insurance company for you. They can put up a new garage in a week. You might even order one with storage space overhead.”