Permanent Adhesives (16 page)

I continued nosing around and found a stack of thin boards leaning against the wall. They were mainly covered by a tarp, but the corner of some of them peeked out. It looked like a collection of cardboard, plywood, and a couple of canvases. I quietly peeled back the tarp to take in a painting a few feet long that consisted of a beautiful background with swirling colors and bubbles. The foreground had a couple of figures that were black line drawings with a white outline around them, kind of like the white border on the stickers Elias made me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elias crawling along the garage floor. He peeped under the car and seemed to have found what he was looking for. He thrust his arm under, pulled out a box, and stood up. Elias looked at me and then his eyes immediately went to his revealed artwork. He pursed his lips together, took a couple of strides forward, and threw the tarp back in place.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Did you paint that?” It was like fine art combined with illustration. I was quite smitten with it.

Elias responded with a click of the tongue. “C’mon.” He wiggled the box of latex gloves in front of me.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Who says I had to?”

“But your painting is really pretty.” I know really pretty was a lame and generic way to describe a piece of art, but it was the truth. I thought it was pretty.

Elias dropped his shoulders and scratched the tip of his nose. “Thanks.” He then pointed to the tee-shirts. “Sold all the other ones, had to make more.” He was pretty good at changing the subject.

“How does that all work, you selling the tee-shirts?”

“Ya lookin’ for your money?”

“No, no, but you seem to be doing all this stuff for me, let me do it.”

Elias twisted up his lips, pulled at his hair, and sighed. I wasn’t sure if it was a good sigh or not because he sighed a lot. Didn’t know if he was always exasperated or just prepping himself to talk. “Kate, Roberto, and I, set you up an online account where your money goes. Well, I think Kate actually did that all, but it’s like one of those verified payment system things, so somewhere somehow you’ll eventually have to open a bank account so your money can be transferred there. But you said your mom takes all your money, right? So you might just have to let it accumulate in there unless you can find a bank that will give an account to a minor, but if ya want you can help me fill some orders. Right now, they’re kinda slow, but as things move along I’m sure they’ll pick up. You also sold some sticker packs.”

“People actually bought our merchandise. That’s kinda cool.”

“Yeah, I’ll show you how to log in and track it.”

“You have gone above and beyond. You’ve done plenty. You should focus on your stuff now.”

“I don’t have stuff.”

I pointed to his paintings.

“Those don’t count.”

“What about your tee-shirts? You made that one with the moose on it? Didn’t you?”

“I’m just trying to make it up to you,” Elias said, sighing and ignoring the fact that I was talking about him.

“But you have. Remember, I did also beat you up.”

“I dunno, I just keep thinking about how I let everybody know about your, ya know, life and stuff, and if someone did that to me, I’d be pissed, and ya know even if I was feeling bad I shouldn’t go and make another person feel that way, and what kinda person am I really then?”

“Well, I’m learning you’re a great person actually.”

He raised an eyebrow as if saying
huh
? Like he couldn’t believe that somebody thought he was a great person.

“Seriously,” I said.

He looked at me and sucked on his lip. “What about you?”

“Being a great person? I totally am.”

“No…but no, wait, yeah…”

“But I’m fine, okay, and whenever you’re having a crappy day just let me know, and we’ll avoid another dramatic scene.”

Elias nodded. “I’m kinda having one.”

I frowned at him.

He put the box of gloves under his arm and took his finger and drew up the corner of my mouth. “It’s getting better.”

“Well, I’m glad. Can I see your sketchbook?” I said, seeing maybe if I’d catch him for a loop.

He shook his head no.

“Okay then, we have some time before we go out tonight. Wanna hang out at my house till then?”

“Okay,” Elias said quietly. “Lemme go inside and grab my bag.”

I waited in the gangway while he dashed inside. We then went back across the street, complete with the gloves, so we’d have clean hands and leave the scene fingerprint free. Elias worked on a paper he was doing for someone. He had a whole system where he wrote all the needed information that was to be cited, in order on index cards, and he said it was just fill in the blank with your own words from there. As for myself, I actually did my homework. My mom got home around ten-thirty, and the two of us were in the kitchen. After she took off her coat and exchanged her shoes for slippers, she came into the kitchen.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked, tucking her dirty blond bob behind her ear.

“Elias,” I said.

He gave her a wave. My mom acknowledged him with a nod, then left to go become catatonic in front of the TV. She didn’t hold a very high interest in my personal life. Elias could have been an escaped convict, and she would have never known.

Trying not to look suspicious, that was our main goal. I had one of those backpacks that tie at the top, so we put the bucket of wheat paste in there. The bucket wasn’t that full of paste because my posters weren’t really big, but to be on the safe side, I stuck an old encyclopedia in the bottom of the bag to stabilize the bucket a bit so it wouldn’t tip. Elias had on a navy blue zipper up backpack and in that were the posters in a plastic bag, so they wouldn’t get gunked up, my brush with a plastic bag over it, some gloves, paper towels, and wet wipes. We each had on a couple of layers made with tee-shirts and thermals topped with dark zipped up hoodies. I wore a hat with ear flaps and a pom-pom on top, and Elias had on a striped beanie. I don’t think we looked too suspicious, just a couple of teens about to wander the city in the late hours. Our goal was to just blend into the night, all the while with our faces partially obstructed, thus the hoodies and hats. My mom was already asleep on the couch when we were getting ready to leave. She heard me open the door and slightly sat up.

“I’ll be back,” I told her, and she lay back down.

Curfew was no worry because my mom didn’t seem to care, and we were seventeen and the city curfew applied to those sixteen and under, so we just had to make sure we weren’t caught because wheat pasting isn’t what you would call legal. We walked down my block and turned at the busy street. Even though it was close to midnight the street was still alive with cars and there were still a few people out. We walked down the sidewalk and under the viaduct where there was an escalator and some stairs, options to take you up to the ‘L’ platform. We were heading a few stops over to a neighborhood where a bunch of artsy and indie types lived and hung out and also where Quirks was located. We took the lazy route and went up the escalator to emerge on the platform. There was absolutely nobody else up there. I shoved my hands in my hoodie pockets, and Elias stood on the outer edges of his feet, and we watched the traffic wiz by from the expressway that was on both sides of the ‘L’ platform. After a bit a train rattled up. We got on and were welcomed by a blast of heat in the train doorway. I went and sat down on the edge of a seat accommodating room for my backpack; I didn’t feel like taking it off, and Elias stood and held the pole next to where I sat. There were a couple of people in uniforms snoozing sporadically strewn about the car and a woman with red luggage coming home from the airport. Elias tapped his fingers as we went along, and I kind of bounced in my seat, nervous but yet excited with anticipation. After we hit the first stop that a robotic sounding voice announced, I noticed Elias yawning.

“You don’t have to be doing this. You can go home and sleep,” I said.

Elias shook his head no.

“Sure?”

He then nodded yes and smiled. After the next couple of stops we got off and followed the steps down to the ground. We both paused a moment once out on the sidewalk. We just looked at each other. Elias then cracked out a grin and started walking. I followed without saying a word. The street corner was brightly lit and there was an assortment of characters out and about: people coming out of a taco joint, one guy walking a little lopsided, and a few carrying something large across the street wrapped in brown paper. Coffee shops and storefronts and an artist building surrounded us. Elias walked to the corner where there was a five-way intersection sort of deal. We crossed at the one corner, and Elias stopped in front of a building that looked like it was uninhabited. Its windows were already covered in posters.

He looked around us, and it seemed those that were out were minding their own business. He then looked up over at the crosswalk signs and light poles. “Making sure there are no cameras,” he said.

“We’re gonna do this right here in the open?”

Elias nodded.

“Is it okay if we cover up these posters?”

“The concert they’re advertising already passed.”

“Okay then,” I whispered, trying to keep us low key, even though it’s not like somebody was standing around listening. I swung my bag to the ground, flipped up the flap, and untied it. Elias was unzipping his bag to get out the brush and poster. I slipped on a pair of the gloves.

“Okay, we gotta be real quick,” Elias said. With that he handed me the brush, and I picked the left side of where the posters started and applied our paste. I coated the whole side so we could stick up a few of the posters. I finished applying the paste and handed Elias the brush. He was facing towards the street, kind of covering me and keeping an eye out. He reached his arm behind him exchanging the brush for a poster. I took the poster and smoothed it out over the paste. I grabbed my squeegee thing from my bag and ran it over my poster to eliminate any bumpy lumps or air bubbles. I then applied another poster under it and one more on the bottom after that. After I put the posters up, we packed up our gear and went in search of our next location. It wasn’t far. It was a large green electrical box on the other corner. Once we pasted the poster there we crossed at the next corner and attacked a light pole.

We were about to turn into an alley when we heard someone behind us on the sidewalk make an
ahem
sound. I gulped down some fear that wanted to escape and tried to keep my stomach in place. I was so thinking a cop was behind us. Elias looked at me peripherally and kept walking. We heard the noise again and then started to slow down. We turned around and luckily, it was not a police officer, it was a guy wearing a battered black trench coat and a stocking cap, like one of those you see guys going to sleep in, like in movies that took place a long time ago.

“Got a cigarette?” the guy asked in a deep scratchy voice that sounded like it was filled with phlegm.

Elias shook his head no, and I responded with, “Uh, sorry no.”

“Five dollars?”

“No,” I said, turning around, walking away. Elias fell in step next to me.

The guy followed behind us as we walked past a window with paintings of what looked like cats horking up various objects.

“Got some change?” the guy yelled, like really yelled.

Elias and I quickened our pace to where we were basically set in a jog. We didn’t need some guy attracting attention to us. We turned at the next busy street where there was a music venue, and it seemed like a show just let out. Elias and I fell into the crowd that smelled heavily of an illegal smokeable substance and was garbed like a thrift store exploded: wispy bohemian tops, vintage cowboy shirts, holy jeans, and outdated gym shoes. We squeezed through the people cluttering the sidewalk and past the white ornate building that held the concert. We continued past a few more shops and turned left into an alley. We went a good ways down, so there was enough space between us, the concert goers, or more like
wenters
, and any venue security that would have been around. We found the back of a business that already had some various posters, cutouts, and stencils on it and stopped to throw our poster into the menagerie.

I was feeling so happy; I was truly enjoying what we were doing. I’m telling you, for some reason, I really loved how the paper took on whatever object was underneath. The paper became textured like the bricks I pressed it against, forming with all the little bumps and crevices.

“Psst,” Elias whispered.

I stopped smoothing down the poster and looked over my shoulder at Elias. He motioned behind him with his head where a guy wandered into the alley. My heart stopped for a moment, and my body started to fill with anxiety. I watched the guy and he stopped about halfway down from us, unzipped his pants, and went pee. I let out a sigh of relief.

“I have to be quicker,” I said.

Elias nodded, agreeing with me.

“You’re a pretty good lookout.”

Elias smiled, his one dimple popping up.

We packed up our gear and went to hit a few more spots—Quirks included, where we got the door, and I even stuck one on the sidewalk—before retiring for the evening. On the ‘L’ ride back we sat side-by-side. Elias kept glancing over at me as the train rattled along. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold night air. The only other people on the train besides us were a couple on their way to catch a flight. From the looks of it, they were staying a long time wherever they were going because they had a lot of designer leather luggage piled around them crowding up the aisle and surrounding seats. The ‘L’ smelled like a combination of sweaty feet and cheese, it was pretty gross. I studied all the rectangular advertisements that were lined up at the top of the train car. One was for a photo studio that claimed it had serviced the region for over 100 years. There was one for some sort of nutrition place and then one for some online school with a sticker slapped over it. The sticker was one of those
hello my name is
ones and had somebody’s tag on it in black marker.