Thirsty Pockets

1

He never thought he’d pose nude for money. A private college was expensive, though, and art students were required to take the Human Form course, so when his friend Reagan ran across campus carrying a tupperware, he figured she needed a sub. 2

"Jay Jay!" 3

He hated that nickname. Unfortunately, his parents thought they’d be witty and give him three J initials. John Jacob Jackson. He groaned, "Reagan, you KNOW…" 4

"Yes, yes, I know, but I…"5

"Need a favor, I can tell." 6

Reagan gave John a confused look, thinking how does he do that?7

John grinned, "You have cookies, Regg. You always bring me cookies when you need something, and you always wonder how I know."8

Reagan blushed, "Oh, yeah. Here!" She opened the box of home-made peanut butter cookies, John’s favorite. "Can you sub for me tonight?"9

"Y’on the rag?"10

"Yeah, dammit… and I could use the money, too."11

"Could be worse, coulda skipped."12

"Shaa I know! So will ya?"13

John thought for a minute. Ten bucks an hour to sit, stand, kneel and bend is a good deal. He shrugged, "sure, no sweat."14

Reagan jumped on him and hugged John around the neck, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you, thank you, John! I’ll make it up to you, I promise!" 15

"Damn, woman! I’m subbing for you, not saving your life. Buy me a beer this weekend, that’ll pay me back." John helped her climb down. 16

Reagan laughed, "Will do. OH!" She plunged her hand into the cluttered backpack to retrieve the directions to the studio. John heard her muttering to herself with each crinkled paper. "Humm, what did… oh yeah… there it… no… uh… dammit… YES!"17

"Uh, Regg, you okay?" John questioned. He wasn’t used to seeing Reagan so unorganized. "Need a hand, hun?"18

"Nah, I’m just disorganized today. Ah! Here they are! Directions to the studio." She handed a paper over to John. "Just take Wright Avenue to Main, turn left… no… yeah, left. Then go two blocks and on your left you’ll see the studio, can’t miss it, pink and purple doors." Reagan was talking so fast John could hardly keep up. "Call me if you can’t find it, Maxine knows I won’t be there so she’s expecting a replacement, so just tell her I sent you." Reagan hopped onto her bicycle and rode off. Two blocks down the road she turned to look back and waved. 19

John smiled and waved back. They met at freshman orientation two years earlier. She was a local and knew all the hole-in-the-wall Italian joints in town, and where all the good tattoo parlors were. A bit ditsy at times, the art major was not stereotypical. Reagan had long blonde hair, a few extra curves and hated finger painting; but she was an amazing artist. Flowers were her forte. She painted tulips as if they were floating off the canvas. Daffodils had impeccable texture and even the moss and lily pads in her work looked appealing, slimy as they are. Reagan hadn’t had intensive training, just art classes in high school because they relaxed her. She had an interest in flowers since she was a child, everyone thought she’d go into botany and work for Greenpeace. Then she won the Anson Scholarship for Art, a four-year full ride.20

John didn’t quite ‘get’ art. He’d been to museums on field trips and earned an A in Intro to Art, a Gen Ed requirement at Langdon, he just didn’t have a deep understanding of it. He wasn’t sure how to respond when someone asked him what he thought of a painting or sculpture. He had no opinion. He liked it or didn’t but couldn’t say why. Reagan tried but couldn’t connect to the creative side of John’s brain, so she gave up. He was going into math and possibly secondary education; he wouldn’t need more art than Geometry.21

He opened the crinkled directions. Hmm, not too far, I can walk. John folded the paper and put it in his pocket. He walked across campus to his dorm room to kill time before heading out to the class. On the way to his dorm room he looked around the campus. He had five years left including summer classes while also holding a part time job and trying to pay student fees. John was a good-looking young man, broad shoulders and a husky build, not at all unattractive. He liked to stay healthy and was in the campus gym frequently enough that the jocks knew his name but not often enough to say he knew them. John’s regular workout included forty minutes on the elliptical and a few laps around the track twice a week; just enough to keep in shape and work off the few beers a week he had.22

Born and raised near St. Louis, Missouri, he sought out Langdon University because it was located in a small town in Illinois. About three hours from St. Louis, he was still close enough to drive home for a weekend but far enough away to have his own life and not have family dropping by to visit. He went home for breaks but during the summer he liked staying in town. Reagan’s parents liked him and gave him a room in the basement so he didn’t have to pay rent, Regg’s dad said, "all ya gotta do kid is mow the lawn ‘cause my damn knees don’t work like they use-ta." John enjoyed the small town and preferred it to the big city. He led a pretty simple life: worshipped Mel Brooks and swore he would meet him someday. He owned every film Brooks had ever produced or been involved in, both in VHS and in DVD. The To Be or Not To Be tapes were so worn he had to buy several more copies, then the DVDs. He had a few close friends at home, but didn’t keep in close contact with anyone outside family. After graduating with 643 other students, he was glad to be at a smaller school with less than 1,200 students total.23

John was almost to the dorm when he heard a voice ahead of him near the dorm. It was Grant Masters, AKA ‘The Judge’, one of the upperclassmen in the dorm just down the hall from John. Judge was a rather original character from Sydney, Australia and introduced John to the many joys of public urination and not getting caught. He spoke with a heavy Australian accent. "HEY, JINGLE!"24

John remembered his mother’s advice, teasing means they like you. He cringed and mumbled, "That’s when girls tease."25

"Aye?"26

"Hey, Judge."27

"Don’t forget, mate. Dorm meeting tonight in the lobby ‘round midnight. Oh! Flounder and Crater got the first season uh South Park, come watch!"28

John’s mouth dropped, "Judge you KNOW I’ll be all over that!" 29

"Yah, mate. Gotta go to class. South Park right after meeting."30

"I’ll be there, Thanks man!" John beamed on his way into the dorm. First season South Park hot DAMN! Mr. Hanky is classic. Three floors up, John had one of the few single rooms available in the building. After his first roommates drunkenly attacked him with a hose and plant food, John felt the need for his own space. He was thrilled to win the first draw in his freshman year and was able to choose any room on campus. He chose the room at the end of the hall on the third floor, the one furthest from the stairs. John didn’t like hearing all the freshmen coming home loud and drunk, so he appreciated his little corner of Phillips Hall. 31

Back home his room was an obnoxious twelve year old’s: Darth Vader halloween costume on the wall, Luke Skywalker poster, Princess Leia on the ceiling in her Return of the Jedi costume. In college he conformed a bit, Carmen Electra and Tyra Banks of Victoria’s Secret fame had replaced Carrie Fisher. Old gangster movies lined the shelves next to the Brooks films above his Playstation. The mini fridge had old pizza and leftover Ramen marinating from before Spring Break and soda cans were stuffed under the bed. He kicked a few cans out of the way before flopping onto his bed, tossing his shoes across the room nearly slamming his computer. He glanced at his watch and drifted off.32

After a four hour nap John woke to his cell phone honking the alarm. "Dammit I need to get an alarm clock." He rolled over, rubbed his face awake and went to his clean laundry basket. What does somebody wear to an art studio? I’m just gonna have to strip down. He found a dark blue t-shirt and an old pair of jeans that already had paint and oil stains on them. 33

It took John twenty minutes to walk the ten blocks to the studio located just west of the railroad tracks across from Reagan’s favorite bar, The Royal Inn. John had been to the bar several times but had never before paid any attention to the surrounding buildings. Royal Inn was tempting John as he looked at his watch. About fifteen minutes, I can have a beer. John crossed the alley to the bar, went to the double doors and pushed them open. The place was a hole-in-the-wall, dimly lit and smelled of incense. It was in a lull, John hadn’t seen Royal Inn so sparse. He sauntered slowly to the bar, placing his right elbow next to the napkin holder. "Hey, Black, gimme a beer." 34

Peter Black was a large man, not fat but muscular. He looked closer to a bouncer than a tender. "Hey, Johnnie! It’s Tuesday, what the hell are you doing here?" He grabbed a glass from the freezer and turned the tap.35

"I’m just killin’ time before work, dude," he swiveled on the stool.36

Black smirked as he finished the tap. "Yeah, I saw Regg earlier. She mentioned you might take her spot tonight. Two bucks." 37

John dug for his money clip. "Got change?"38

"Yeah, sure."39

"Cool, here’s a ten."40

"Kay, eight bucks." The register jingled and with a smack, Black tossed a five and three ones toward John. John dropped one of the dollars into the tip jar. "Thanks, dude." Black replied.41

"What’s up with the studio, anyway? Haven’t been there yet. You been in there?"42

Black smiled, "Yeah, I been over there. Pretty simple. Maxine’s a good gal but she’s always bitchin’ about the models. Catt and Regg are her favorites."43

John took a large drink of his beer. "Regg’s mentioned Catt. She said they’ve worked together before… ‘tasteful’ is how she put it. Though I don’t know how tasteful two nekkid girls on a platform can be," he smirked.44

Black snickered under his breath. "Dude, I have some of the sketches. They’re not too erotic, but not super-sweet either." He reached under the bar to retrieve a sketchbook. "Check ‘em out, they’re pretty good."45

"Why do you keep them here?" 46

"Convenience. Here, take a look." Black handed the sketchbook across the bar.47

John grabbed it, not really looking forward to his first real look at art in process. "Hey, be careful!" Black reached for the book. "Damn, man!"48

"Oh, sorry." John became flushed and carefully opened the book. The first piece startled him. He’d seen naked women in magazines, but this drawing was pencil, and Reagan was the model. The sketch was gorgeous, putting a mental image of Reagan into John’s mind completely different than any before. Her head was cocked just slightly to the left. She was on her back, lying on what looked like a white featherbed. It was very tasteful, and drawn with care, as if the artist was trying to look inside the model’s soul. John stared at the pieces, looking not at Reagan’s naked curves, but at the workmanship and the style of the pencil. The technique was intriguing to him. He ran his fingers gently over the paper, trying to savor the pencil lead. "Not too much handling, though, dude. It’ll smudge, Maxine wouldn’t like that." Black warned. 49

John heard him but couldn’t stop following the contour of the drawing. His hands never left the canvas. He turned the page to see the next piece and his eyes became teary. He hadn’t ever really looked at art before, but this piece pulled him in. He couldn’t think of how to explain it, a pencil drawing of an old man sitting on a stool with his head in his hands. The detail was extraordinary. Wrinkles on the forehead, shadows, the weakness in his legs; John could see all of this. When Black turned away John wiped his eyes. "These are good, man."50

Black smiled as he washed some glasses. He looked up at the clock, "You better get going. Should get there early since you haven’t modeled before."51

John looked at his watch. "Oh dammit you’re right. I’d better go." He gently closed the sketchbook and put it on a dry area of the bar. He gathered his bag and left another dollar on the bar. "See you later, man." He paused as he touched the sketchbook. "Thanks for letting me look at these." 52

"No problem, dude. Take care."53

John left the bar and hopped across the alley to the studio. He was suddenly nervous. He didn’t think he would be. John took a deep breath and opened the door. An old warehouse, the signs pointed down the hall and through an etched glass door. He was in the right place, the sign on the door was painted in bright colors, 54

ART CLASSROOM. He knocked and eased his way into the room. 55

"Hello?" He looked around and saw easels in a circle, with short wooden stools attached to them. Large sheets of fabric were hanging from pipes strewn around the room, spattered with paint. A few sinks held rags and soaking water jars that must have been at least ten years old. John put his bag down and walked around the room to relax his nerves. He heard footsteps coming from the hall on the right. A woman came into the open room where John was standing, wiping paint from her hands onto an overused towel. She was dressed in a white tunic splattered with paint and something dark that looked like charcoal. Her voice was deep for a woman, but not raspy like a smoker’s voice. "Ah! You must be Reagan’s replacement." She took John’s hand to shake. "Welcome, welcome. The dressing room is down the hall to your left. You’ll find a robe you can wear ‘til it’s time to get settled on the table. It’s just out of the dryer so it’ll be nice and warm. I’m Maxine, by the way, I think I’ve seen you somewhere before, in a class on campus, maybe?"56

John shook his head, "No, I haven’t taken any art classes outside of Intro, but I’m across the street at the bar every now and then. I never knew this place was here." 57

Maxine nodded and tied her hair back. "Yes, yes, we like to keep the studio a bit of a secret, we don’t want just anybody coming in here to grab a free look at our models. It’s easier for both the models and the artists to relax. This is your first time modeling, right?" John nodded, and his nerves were beginning to show. His hands were shaking. His eyes, scanning the studio. Maxine’s face changed to one of caring concern, "Don’t worry. What is your name?" 58

"John Jackson, it’s nice to meet you. Regg said she really enjoys working here." 59

Maxine beamed, "Well good! She’s one of our best models, always eager to try new poses and put her emotions out there." John’s eyes widened, he was curious at how emotions can go into a pose outside of facial expressions.60

Maxine smiled and patted his arm. "Well, everyone is professional here. They don’t care what the model looks like, they’re here to sketch and paint. They are much more focused on their work than looking at a naked body." She went to one of the easels and handed a paper to John. "Here are the poses for the night, are you comfortable with these? Each pose lasts twenty-five minutes with a ten minute break between pose two and three, okay?" John looked at the paper. The typed instructions were simple and easy to follow. Pose one, right knee bent with the foot to the right, left hand on chest, head turned to right knee. Pose two, lay on left side, left arm above head, right knee bent. Pose three, lay on belly, chin on right fist, feet crossed. Pose four, lay as you would naturally sleep. "Do these look okay to you?"61

John nodded, "Sure. Do I need to do the pose exactly the way it says, or can I move around a bit to get comfortable?"62

"Try to get comfortable in the exact position, but if it is too uncomfortable you can change it just a little. I’ll ask if you’re ready. Try not to move too much after I say start, though. Breathing is fine, please don’t hold your breath, new models sometimes do that, so don’t worry about breathing." 63

John nodded, "Okay," he pointed down the hall, "just this way?" 64

Maxine smiled, looking at her watch, "Just down the hall on the left. Students should arrive within the next ten minutes, I’ll knock on the door to let you know they’re ready."65

"Alright," John picked up his bag, strolled down the hall and opened the dressing room door. He tossed his bag into the corner and started to undress. He couldn’t unbutton his shirt very well due to his hands shaking so much. Frustrated with his shirt, he kicked his shoes off and unzipped his jeans. He took a deep breath and sat on the chair in the corner of the dressing room. Gradually his hands found their way to the shirt and started to undo the buttons. They worked slowly, but after a few minutes, the shirt was flopped on the floor with the jeans, jacket, socks and shoes. He was sweating sitting on the chair in the pale painted room as he removed his t-shirt and boxer-briefs. Three knocks at the door startled John, "Yeah!"66

"We’re ready, John." Maxine said through the door. "Grab the robe and come on out." 67

"Uh, okay." John’s voice shook. He had severe second thoughts. His eyes darted, looking for an escape route. He stood on the chair, looking for a window. Realizing he had a commitment to make to the class and to Reagan, he swallowed hard and took a deep breath, catching his reflection in the mirror. He noticed the slight beer belly and wondered if it would matter. He saw his legs with rock-climbing scars from a few weeks earlier. He looked at his arms, his abs, his face; finding faults with every aspect of his body. As with art, John hadn’t paid too much attention to his body, he just wanted to stay healthy. Now he had to face the imperfections and show them to everyone in the class. Escaping was becoming more and more appealing. I just need to relax. Relax, John. Okay. Good. Breathe. Good. In, out. In, out. Good! Ugh I can’t do this. I can just close my eyes and pretend I’m somewhere else. I’m at home, watching movies on the bed in my boxers. Vader, Jawas, Luke, Spaceballs, Dot Matrix. Return of the Jedi. Lando. Leia. NO NOT LEIA! Uhm, Playstation! I’m playing God of War. I’m playing Final Fantasy. I’m playing Lego Star Wars! 68

Another three knocks came to the door. "John! We’re ready for you, hun!"69

"Yeah sorry, I’m coming!" 70

He closed his eyes and took another deep breath before donning the robe. He had to go out there. "Okay, go do this." He slapped himself in the face a few times before opening the door. He walked into the studio. The drapes of fabric around the room were arranged in a circle so there was no interference from the background. He surveyed the environment, looking for anyone he knew. It was dark except for the spotlight focused on the table in the center of the circle. 71

"Damn, am I being sacrificed to the God of Art or something?"72

Maxine and the students chuckled, "Everyone, this is John, he’ll be our model for the evening. Hop on up, John. First pose, everyone." 73

John undid his robe and placed it on a nearby chair. Looking across the room he saw someone. John thought he was seeing things. Is that… Black!? Black was there. He had the sketchbook from the bar and pencils, ready to draw. He gave a kind crooked smile. John shook his head in disbelief and walked to the table, a half smile creeping onto his face. Sliding up onto the table, he shivered. Black gave John a thumbs up.74

John returned the thumbs up and situated himself into pose one.
75

What did you think? Please comment!

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have 0. (?) (Line numbers)
    Ratings:

Comments

1 - 8 of 8
  • SilverWolf
    June 22
    Edit | Reply
    **more

  • SilverWolf
    June 22
    Edit | Reply
    wow!! that is awesome! but i think there needs to be fore of a ending

  • rannilt
    March 11, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    I was drawn into this. It unfolds as naturally as a towel.

    Yes, I agree with everyone. I want the rest.

    Possible titles?

    Apollo (Greek god of art), or something like a new Apollo, something more contemporary. Studio Apollo? (I don't like the 'o's' in that.) Apollo Sat? (Try something along the lines of Ayn Rand's title "Atlas Shrugged.")

    Mer. I don't expect you to use these, they're not very good, but as long as it gets you thinking in the right vein, we're good to go. Hope something sparks for you.

    And *poke* Hurry up and finish your story, dammit! I feel like I know John and Reagan, and I want to hear more.

  • crazirazberri
    March 10, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    pretty good start! starts out strong,definetly an attention grabbing first line and uve got an interesting situation and intriguing characters i want 2 get 2 know better. the dialogue can be slightly strained at times, but i like how u throw in things like "yes... no... um..." that make it imitate real speech morewhile not using it so much its overwhelming ad distracting.

    the dialogue keeps it clipping along, but when u stop 4 exposition, sometimes it bogs down and feels like ur trying 2 hard 2 squeeze information into it.

    i would look again at the whole paragraph beginning with
    "John was a good-looking young man, broad shoulders..." up 2
    "While reflecting on his hometown, John found himself already at the dorm."
    this just doesnt seem 2 fit, i would try and work on revealing this more naturally, bit by bit... we dont need 2 know everything about what he looks like and his life story right away. we get 2 know the characters better as we go along.

    "Damn, am I being sacrificed to the God of Art or something?"- *eye roll*

    "her never-ending backpack"- never-ending backpack? this description just seems a little weird 2 me. bottomless maybe?

    other than that i thought it was pretty well-written. i agree that the part where john looks at the sketches is one of the best parts. its really quite wonderful. really powerful descriptions.

    i dont have an suggestion 4 a title yet... my only suggestion is that maybe if later in the larger story, one of the pieces of artwork based off this modeling experience... whatever its name was might work 4 the title. i dont know where ur planning 2 go with this but thats just what came 2 mind.

    anyways, nice job with this and keep writing! uve definetly got a talent 4 weaving stories!


  • March 10, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    ugh I'm sorry the computer must have done that, it showed up just fine when I put it in there the first time... I'll fix it.
    sorry about that.

  • serentious grey
    March 10, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    it's hard to read i think you should take the time to edit and fix all the symbols if you can. but you really do need to finish it. I liked when he was looking at the sketches, and was captivated by the picture of the old man as well. I thought that was important to show that it was actually art not pornography. your dialogue did seem a bit strained though
    Edited on Mar 10 because ''.

  • MY lips will deny
    March 9, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    what are all of the letters or shapes that are hard to understand? what are they supposed to stand for?


  • March 9, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    I think there has to be and ending before you can actually give it a title. I wish there were one, I enjoyed the read alot.

1 - 8 of 8